


Cradle songs of comfort

by theonetruenorth



Category: Dishonored (Video Games), Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, BAMF!Alec, Dishonored AU, Embedded Images, M/M, powerful!Magnus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetruenorth/pseuds/theonetruenorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Empress Maryse Lightwood is assassinated, her oldest son is framed for the crime. Disgraced and dishonored, he must chose a path to follow - get revenge or save his little brother, the next heir to the throne.</p>
<p>An immortal, powerful being called the Warlock, who is the source of all magic, seems strangely invested in making sure he succeeds...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **You do NOT need to know the plot of “Dishonored” to read this fic.**
> 
> If you have played the game, that’s great, you will catch more references. If you don’t know what “Dishonored” is about - you can still read the story. Treat it as a steampunk/dystopian/fantasy AU with a healthy dose of angst and you’ll be just fine.

 

Alec and his mother came to an understanding just after his fifteenth birthday.

It became apparent to him that he was not going to be able to fulfill his parents’ wishes and become the next Emperor. It wasn’t for lack of faith in his own leadership, or because he wanted to avoid the responsibility of ruling a nation.

No, it was only because of the fact that Alec would not be able to father any legitimate heirs.

The day he confessed this to his mother was the scariest day in his life, even more so than her assassination attempt a few years back. His father, the more understanding parent, passed away due to illness when Alec was twelve, so it was only Maryse who raised him and his siblings.

He needed to tell her the truth. He owed her that much.

So Alec told her that he couldn’t rule Idris after her with a fair conscience, not when he couldn’t stand the idea of marrying a woman and having children with her. The Lightwood line wouldn’t continue through him.

Maryse took the news with a surprising calm. It unnerved Alec. It made him think that she was going to banish him and exile him from his family. He didn’t want to leave Izzy, Jace or Max behind, but he wouldn’t go against her wishes either.

Alec might have been terrified of his mother’s temper, but she was still his mother _and_ his Empress and Alec was nothing if not the dutiful son. He was going to accept the consequences of his nature. The Lightwoods _always_ accepted the consequences and his mother’s word was the law.

Sed lex, dura lex.

But his worst expectations didn’t come true.

“Is there any chance that you will change your mind?” Maryse asked him, her voice calm and steady. She was looking out a window in her private chambers, avoiding Alec’s eyes. He stood there, frozen with anxiousness and fear, feeling like a little boy about to be scolded for tracking mud on the carpets.

“No,” he finally answered, trying to sound braver than he actually felt, “this is not something that I can change.”

“I see.” Maryse sighed and turned back from the window, taking a seat at the beautifully crafted wooden desk that she used for reading and signing reports. “I can’t say that I’m not disappointed.”

Alec stood up, his back ramrod straight and muscles tense. His arms were crossed behind his back in a perfect military stance. Despite schooling his features into an emotionless mask, anyone who knew Alec would recognize how close he was to crying.

“But it’s good that you told me,” Maryse said, looking down at the desk briefly and drumming her fingers against the surface a couple of times. “I’ll need to present the Council of Lords with an edict that appoints Max as my future heir.”

It wasn’t exactly an unexpected decision, at least not for Alec. Isabelle should be the next for the throne but she chose to pursue the path of science and had no interest in ruling Idris. Jace was adopted into the family, but had no legal standing when it came to path of succession. Max was actually the only one left for Maryse to choose as her heir.

“Do you--” Alec stopped, not sure if he wanted to voice it, but he couldn’t stand the fear and worry about his fate anymore. “Do you want me to go? Leave the city?”

Maryse looked up at him sharply, her gaze nothing but steel and resolve.

“No,” she said, without hesitation, “don’t be ridiculous. I might not be happy about this situation, but I’m not going to banish you. You’re my son.”

Alec let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his entire body relaxing, letting go of the painful tightness in his chest.

“However,” Maryse continued, “the Council and the people will see this decision as you falling out of favor. We need to find a way for you to stay in a position of power. I don’t think you’re suited for the role of Royal Spymaster. Jace is already on his way to take over the military. What should I do with you?”

It was the first time in a long while that Alec had seen his mother looking so unsure of herself. She was gazing at the pile of reports and decrees like she expected them to provide an answer.

“Mom,” Alec interrupted her musings, “I think I might have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

Alec climbed up the path in the royal gardens leading to a terrace and a gazebo that overlooked the city. His feet were dragging, his shoulders slumped with fatigue. He had just come back to Idris after months out at sea, on a quest that Maryse had sent him on. She insisted he was the only one she trusted, her own flesh and blood. How could Alec say no?

At only twenty-four he was the youngest person in the history of Idris to be named Lord Protector. The position, granted to him five years ago, was proof that despite being removed from the line of succession, Maryse still trusted him with her life. He was her private bodyguard, the one who was close with her at all times, the Empress’ last line of defense.

She trusted him and his devotion to duty, which was why Alec was the only one she could send to neighbouring countries in hope that others had had more luck with curing the plague that was slowly bringing Idris to its knees. Unfortunately, he did not have good news for her.

“Alec!”

Max intercepted him as soon as Alec crossed the small bridge that connected the castle with the gardens. His little brother looked so much taller compared to when Alec saw him last. He hugged Max back with all his might and gave him a piggyback ride for the remaining walk up to the gazebo. Max was slowly getting too big to carry, but Alec wasn’t going to be the one to point that out.

His mother was talking to Valentine Morgenstern, who served as the Royal Spymaster. Neither of them looked happy and Alec wondered if his own report would just add to their burdens.

“Alec, it’s so good to see you back, and two days early too.” Maryse seemed genuinely happy to see him as she kissed his cheek in greeting. She waved her hand in dismissal at Valentine, who left them without a word. “What news do you bring?”

“Not good, I’m afraid,” Alec said. “Mother, they are going to blockade us. Our neighbors are afraid of the plague reaching their borders.”

The plague spread by rats started a couple of months ago and so far showed no signs of stopping. The sickness was the thing of nightmares. Started out with a cough, much like the common cold, only to develop into something much more dreadful. The infected person lost weight and their skin showed signs of discoloration. The hair thinned and fell out. The victim’s brain seemed to be affected as well, resulting in bouts of rage and aggressive behaviour. In the late stages it caused bleeding from mouth and eyes. That symptom earned them their name among the common folk. _Weepers_.

Perhaps the worst thing about the plague was losing your own self. Sick people couldn’t be communicated with. They didn’t see reason and there was no cure for them so far, other then putting them down as an act of mercy. Isabelle and others from the Academy of Science had been trying to find a cure for months now but so far the best they had done was create a temporary remedy that prevented the infection. However, it had to be taken daily and it was a very expensive potion. Only the rich could afford it.

“They are going to starve us out,” Maryse hissed, turning back from him for a moment to gaze at the calm expanse of the ocean, “cowards.”

“Mom?” Max’s voice was hesitant and a little nervous. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Maryse turned back to her youngest and placed a hand on his shoulder, “everything is going to be fine.”

Alec really, really wished her words were true.

“Wait,” Maryse frowned, looking around, “where are all the guards? Who sent them away?”

Alec looked around quickly and silently cursed himself for getting too distracted with his ponderings to pay attention to their surroundings. Every guard that should have been stationed in the gardens and around Maryse was gone.

“Mom, look!” Max’s voice caught his attention. “Who’s out there on the rooftops?”

Alec had no explanation for what followed next. It must have been sorcery of some kind, since the people on the rooftops were moving faster than was humanly possible. They seemed to be vanishing into thin air and reappearing in different places. The gazebo was surrounded before Alec had the chance to get his bearings. The enemies attacked and Alec did his best to fight them off, but it seemed none of his hits connected. The shots fired from his pistol didn’t have any effect. His blade went through their black-clad bodies like they were made of smoke. Their strikes were real, though, very real. The clash of blades vibrated along Alec’s arm and the pain of the shallow wound on his side was not imaginary.

Alec managed to keep them away from Maryse and Max but eventually one of them used their cursed magic on him. He was suspended in air, the blackness and smoke holding him by his neck like he’s nothing more than a disobedient pup. He struggled, even though the pain was overwhelming and the lack of oxygen made his vision swim.

Another assassin materialized out of thin air before him and tried to grab Max. Maryse pushed him off her child but got backhanded for her efforts. Alec couldn’t do anything but scream in rage and anguish as the man ran his sword through his mother’s chest. Max tried to fight, but they grabbed him and disappeared, like they were never there.

Alec dropped to the ground and the rush of air flowing back into his lungs made him dizzy for a terrifying moment. He crawled towards Maryse, and managed to turn her on her back.

“Find him…” she whispered even as her life was draining out of her, “Alec, find him. Protect him… you’re the only one who can.”

She faded away in a matter of seconds, the pool of blood underneath them steadily growing until her heart stopped beating. Alec was paralyzed, filled with pain and misery and confusion. He heard voices, but they were not important right then. Not when he cradled his mother’s body close and wished they could go back to the time when picking a name for newborn Max was their biggest dilemma.

“What have you done…”

Alec looked up, his gaze empty and lost. Valentine stood above him with a handful of guards.

Where were they when she needed them?

“It’s him!” Valentine hissed and only then Alec noticed that the guards had their pistols aimed at him. “He’s killed the Empress! I’ll see you beheaded for this, traitor!”

Before Alec had even a moment to protest, one of the guards struck him with a pommel of his sword and the darkness of unconsciousness closed over him like a shroud.

 

* * *

 

Six months later and they still haven’t managed to break him.

Oh, but they’ve tried. They have tried so hard. The days blended together into one long stream of pain and exhaustion. The beatings and the torture and the sleep deprivation. They tried to make him confess, to sign the admission of guilt and lie about killing his mother, but he held on. His body was slowly failing him and he faded in and out of consciousness constantly, unable to tell how much time had passed. Valentine and his underlings tried to destroy his body and his mind but he didn’t give in.

The Spymaster - now officially turned Lord Regent due to Max’s disappearance - had admitted to Alec that he had plotted the assassination of the Empress.

“But you had to arrive two days early.” Valentine wiped the blade shiny with Alec’s blood with a piece of cloth. “Fortunately, it worked out even better than I expected. This way we can remove you as well. Killing two birds with one stone.”

In the beginning Alec used to reply to the taunts. He fought against the torture and promised Valentine that he would pay for his actions. That Alec would remove Valentine’s head from his neck himself. Now, though, he didn’t have the strength left to even tell Valentine to shut up.

The man loved the sound of his own voice.

The only good thing about Valentine's tendency to run his mouth was that Alec learned about the fate of his siblings. Max was hidden away somewhere as Valentine waited for an opportunity to return him to the throne and take credit for it, preferably after brainwashing the child into believing that Alec had actually killed their mother. Izzy was locked away under guard in Idris Tower. The Lord Regent didn’t dare kill her off as well, at least not yet. Not as long as she was working on the cure for the plague and the formula for _Isabelle’s Health Elixir_ was a secret that only she knew.

Jace was gone and Valentine didn’t know where he was - a fact that frustrated the man to no end. Jace had disappeared soon after Alec was thrown in prison. Alec was glad. He knew that Jace would never believe Alec was guilty, and he might have gotten himself killed defending Alec. At least this way he was safe.

“Tomorrow it’s all going to end,” Valentine said, grabbing Alec’s chin roughly and tilting his head up, so he could look him in the eye. “The people are excited for the public hanging of the one who killed their Empress. It’s going to be quite a show.”

 

* * *

 

The night before his execution, Alec finally got a glimmer of hope.

“You should eat, Alexander,” one of the prison guards said as he placed a tray near the door to his cell, “this meal comes from a friend.”

Alec didn’t know he even had any friends left. He waited for the guard to go away and then slowly dragged himself off his dirty bunk and towards the tray. It was just a half loaf of bread, which was better than nothing, so Alec sat down and reached for it with shaky hands.

Underneath the bread he found a key and a note.

 

 

 

> _Alec,_
> 
> _Who we are is not important right now. Just know that we have faith in you._
> 
> _Here is the key to your cell. We trust that you know the layout of the prison and know how to escape. One of the guards will leave a weapon just outside your cell. Get out. Find your way into the sewers. You will find supplies and gear hidden for you there._
> 
> _Good luck. You will need it._
> 
> _\- A friend_

 

Alec took the key and looked at it. It was small and thin. Such a tiny thing standing between him and his freedom, now held in the palm of his hand. He ate the rest of the bread, knowing he would need his energy, now more than ever.

He took a deep breath, stood up and unlocked his cell.

 

* * *

 

The journey through the sewers was exhausting.

Alec used every last bit of his training to escape the dungeons. The weapon left for him near his cell was a simple blade. Despite the fact that a need for revenge burned in him like an unholy fire, he restrained himself from taking lives. He wasn’t a murderer. Most of the guards had no idea that he was framed and were just doing their job. Alec was Lord Protector for a reason - he didn’t take lives needlessly, not when he had another choice.

So he stayed hidden and used shadows as camouflage. Instead of running the guards through with the blade, he put them in a chokehold and rendered them unconscious, placing their bodies out of sight to avoid detection. All of that extra effort exhausted him and Alec could feel himself slowing down with every step he took. But he had to hold on. He was so close now, so close to getting out. After that he could rest and then start searching for his little brother.

He could start to make everything right again.

The dive off the drawbridge nearly took his life as he hit the water below. The guards that chased him shot their pistols after him, but the bullets only whizzed past him in the murky water as he dove down. Alec almost ran out of air as he stayed underwater to avoid being seen but somehow, by an extreme stroke of luck, he managed to reach the entrance to the sewers.

While he was imprisoned he was cut off from any outside information (apart from what Valentine seemed worthy of sharing) but shortly after he entered the sewers he started to get an idea of how bad the rat plague got during the months he missed. The hoards of rats were big and aggressive enough that they devoured corpses (plague victims, dumped into the sewers like trash) in a matter of minutes. They even dared to attack people, overpowering them like a writhing, living wave of fur and claws. Alec turned his head away when he saw the rodents kill one of the guards who had ventured into the sewers in the hope of tracking him down.

Alec stayed hidden and off the ground when he could, using metal walkways and low hanging pipes to move forward. He avoided both the rats and people in equal measure, until finally he found a little alcove with the promised supplies. The note included with the stashed gear proclaimed his rescuers as the Loyalists, servants of the Empire and the true Emperor, Maxwell Lightwood. They promised to explain more if he met one of their men at the end of the tunnels.

The clean clothes he found in the secret stash went a long way to make him feel human once more as he stripped off the dirty rags that used to be a prison uniform. The new clothes were black, made from soft but sturdy cotton and durable leather. The boots were comfortable and fit quite well. Alec nearly had tears in his eyes as the warm clothes hugged his body, a small comfort after months of sleeping in a cold cell, the chill seeping deep into his bones. He had stopped believing he would ever feel truly warm again.

He found weapons, too. Alec was surprised to see a seraph blade, a weapon reserved only for the highest military officers and experienced fighters. Seraph blades come into existence by being called out by the wielder's will - a small form of magic that wasn’t forbidden by the Clave. Alec had a sword like that before his incarceration and it was a difficult weapon to obtain. But, more importantly, along with a new pistol and a couple of grenades, Alec found a bow and quiver.

No, not just any bow. It was _his_ bow, the one he had trained with and used for years, the one that was perfectly fitted to his hand and balanced for his fighting style. How the hell the Loyalists got their hands on it, Alec didn’t know, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

After he left the sewers behind he came up to a narrow pebbled clearing at the edge of the river, where a lone man stood, waiting by a small boat.

“Relax,” the man said as Alec aimed one deadly sharp arrow at his head. “My name is Alaric and I’m a friend. I work for the people who would very much like to meet you. I can take you to them, just down the river from here.”

And really, what did Alec have to lose?

 

* * *

 

“This is Jade Wolf,” Alaric said as he steered the boat towards the rocky shore where the half-collapsed buildings stood like an unsteady house of cards that would fall apart with the slightest push, “closed for business and half of the district is marked as dead from the plague. We’re right under Lord Regent’s nose and he doesn’t even know it.” He huffed. “Of course, now that you’ve escaped, he’s going to be tearing this city apart to find you.”

Alec said nothing, just chewed slowly at the sandwich that Alaric gave him after they set off from the sewers. The fatigue was catching up to him, his body letting him know that he had pushed it to its limits. Whenever he turned his head his vision took a second or two to follow, like his senses weren't fully operational.

“I’ll take you up to meet Luke and the rest of the loyalists. He’s a man to be reckoned with. If anyone can help you find your brother and clear your name, it’s him.”

They made it to the shore and Alaric tied the boat as Alec climbed out onto the cobblestone pier. The entire area looked even worse up close. Some of the buildings were falling apart, the walls crumbling or littered with holes. He made his way up the short flight of stairs and came to a stop in front of a seemingly abandoned exotic restaurant, the _Jade Wolf_. A small group of people stood in front of it, talking amongst themselves.

“Ah, you’ve made it.”

A tall, dark-skinned man who towered above the rest of the group noticed him first. He quickly stepped towards Alec but stopped immediately in his tracks when Alec aimed an arrow at him.

“Hey!”

“What the fuck?”

Alec ignored the outraged cries from the others and focused his gaze on the dark-skinned man.

“Who are you?” Alec asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. “And why the hell are you helping me?”

“Easy, son,” the man said and raised his hands in the air, as if in surrender, “my name is Luke Garroway. A true servant of the Empire, like you. The Lord Regent purged those of us who wouldn’t recognize his claim to the throne. We are the coalition of loyalists, aimed at ending Valentine’s tyranny and restoring Lord Maxwell to his rightful place.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Alec hissed out, fighting against the wave of weariness that made even the trivial task of holding his bow up seem like an inhuman effort. “For all I know you’re just a bunch of crooks who want to find Max and manipulate him, just like Valentine intends to do.”

“I know you have no reason to trust us, not after everything that happened to you--”

“You’re damn right I don’t!”

“Alec?”

Alec’s gaze snapped to the right. In the side door of the restaurant he saw someone who he had thought was lost to him forever. Alec lowered his bow, the arrow falling out from his suddenly numb fingers and clattering on the cobblestones.

“Jace?” Alec whispered, not really believing his eyes, but he knew that it was real, that Jace was real. How could he be anything else, when he was hugging Alec so tightly that he squeezed all the air out of his lungs?

“I thought I would never see you again,” Alec murmured into Jace’s neck as he clung to him with all his might, holding onto Jace’s leather jacket like his life depended on it. He was trembling, he knew he was, and he felt ready to shake apart at any moment.

“I thought--” Jace laughed quietly, his fingers digging into the muscles of Alec’s back. “Fuck you, Luke. You didn’t tell me you were springing him out today.”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Luke answered him, “in case he didn’t make it.”

For one, blissfully quiet moment, everything was right with the world. Alec could feel Jace’s breath on his skin, the steady drum of a heartbeat reverberating against chest, almost in sync with his own heart. Jace was alive, he was here, safe and sound and everything was going to be alright. He could rest now, just for a little bit, reassured with the knowledge that his brother was by his side.

“Alec?” Jace’s voice sounded suddenly alarmed and Alec didn’t really understand why. He just closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, too weary to keep them open for much longer. “Holy shit, Alec!”

“He needs rest, he’s exhausted. It’s a wonder he didn’t collapse sooner.” Luke’s voice reached Alec’s ears but it was muted, quiet, like he was speaking from very far away. “The introductions can wait until tomorrow. Get him to bed, Jace, let him sleep.”

Sleep. Sleep sounded heavenly right then. Alec could feel Jace holding him up and then another pair of hands grabbed his other arm and he could feel himself being carried away. But Jace was here, he could take care of things for a while and with that thought still lingering in his mind, Alec finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

When he woke up, he was alone.

Alec blinked slowly, still feeling like he wasn’t fully awake, not with the way sleep stubbornly clung to his eyelashes. The room he was in was mostly empty, just a bed, a dresser and chair with a desk. The walls were old red brick and judging from the angled slope of the ceiling, he figured he was in the attic. Alec stood up and stretched, feeling his spine pop loudly and winced at the sensation. Rubbing his eyes, he walked to the door and opened it. And then immediately closed it again.

He was still sleeping. Still in the middle of a dream. It was the only explanation.

Alec cracked the door open once more, peering out through it cautiously. Instead of a corridor or another room, the door opened up to a wide expanse of empty space. A cobblestone crooked path led from his door into blue and purple nothingness.

So either he was dreaming or he was losing his mind. Maybe he was still stuck in the prison cell and never made it out and all of this was just his feverish imagination, playing tricks on him.

Neither of those options sounded particularly appealing.

Alec stepped out onto the path, slowly, but it was solid underneath his feet, just like a real thing. He followed it for a while, for the lack of an other alternative. Everything looked slightly off but there were shapes in the surrounding darkness, of familiar buildings and objects, like pieces of a puzzle thrown carelessly around in a semblance of the real world.

The path led him up to a large room with crumbling walls and ornate-looking windows, richly decorated with dark wood furniture. The delicate fabrics of plush chairs and sofas felt so out of place in the otherwise dull surroundings and the washed-out colors. Blue and purple draperies formed a ceiling over his head, encasing the room in darkness. Weirdly enough, it all looked rather inviting. Cozy, even. Like a place he could use to rest for a while.

“Hello, Alexander.”

Alec turned around quickly but there was no one behind him. He scanned the room, trying to see if there was someone hiding in the shadows, but he was alone.

“Your life has taken a sad turn, has it not? Your mother is dead, your brother lost somewhere in the city.”

There was movement on the very edge of his vision that caught Alec’s attention. He saw the darkness in one corner move, whipping around like a thing possessed. And slowly, so very slowly, a man emerged from the deep shadows.

He was shorter than Alec, and he was dressed in an expensive-looking shirt the color of dark wine, black fitted slacks, and dark boots. There were numerous necklaces draped around his neck that hung low over his broad chest, and they chimed softly with his every move. His long, slender fingers were adorned with rings, some simple in design and some obscenely elaborate. His smooth features were unusual to Alec. He had light brown skin and rich, dark hair.

His eyes…

“Who are you?” Alec whispered, even though he had a growing suspicion already. The man’s almond shaped eyes were like twin fragments of amber, like two pools of molten lava. Instead of brown, or blue, or green they were shining gold and his pupils were just a narrow slits, much like a feline’s.

The man smiled at him and it was as charming as it was dangerous.

“I am the High Warlock. And this is my mark.”

The man waved a hand towards him and Alec hissed when his left hand erupted with a sudden, almost painful heat. With wide eyes Alec watched as a shape slowly appeared on the back of his hand, like a tattoo that sailors and whalers often put on their bodies. It looked like a mess of random lines at first, but the more Alec looked at it, the more it resembled a cat’s eye.

“What do you want from me?” Alec asked once the heat faded away. If this man really was who he claimed he was…

The High Warlock. The immortal, ageless being, who was the source of all magic. The one who gave start to all the cursed creatures that plagued the modern age - the Downworlders. The great calamity that lurked in the netherworld, waiting for the chance to pull mankind into darkness. The Clave was created centuries ago and to this day the primary goal of their existence was to stand against the Warlock and the evil he represented. The order was relentless in pursuing the wicked and came down hard upon those who put their faith in the false gods of superstition and witchcraft.

And now Alec was bearing his mark.

“You will play a pivotal role in the days to come,” the Warlock said, draping himself elegantly over one of the lounge chairs. “For this reason I have chosen you and drawn you into the Void. There are forces in your world and the worlds beyond. Forces that men call magic and now they will serve your will.” He gestured at Alec’s hand. “Use this newfound power, it is my gift to you.”

“Why?” Alec said, his mind swimming with all the possible consequences of being involuntarily chosen as the owner of heretic powers. “Why are you doing this?”

“So full of questions.” The Warlock smirked. “And I guess I can answer some of them...after you give your new powers a try.” The being bowed his head slightly. “Come find me.”

And with that, he melted away into the shadows once more.

Alec looked at the brand on the back of his hand. It didn’t hurt, not anymore. The texture of his skin was different - almost like a burn scar. He touched it, just a tiny brush of his fingertips and gasped at the rush of… _something_ that ran through him. It felt like a shock of energy that spread through his entire body. Was this the power that the Warlock talked about?

Having no other option, Alec started walking the winding path again. He passed the buildings hanging in the air that looked suspiciously like they were copied from the main streets in the city. Further down the horizon of blue and purple, there were shapes that he almost recognized, but couldn’t really focus on.

Was that thing in the distance… a whale?

The path he followed cut off abruptly, the end opening to the expanse of the Void underneath him. There was a floating piece of debris not too far ahead, suspended in mid-air like a hummingbird. It was too far away to jump but Alec saw no other way forward.

The Warlock said that these new powers would serve his will. It stood to reason that Alec should be able to command them as he wished. If this was all a dream, what did he have to lose? Alec reached out with his hand, focused on the floating island and wished himself to stand on it.

In a flash of blinding white, Alec suddenly found himself fighting to stay on his feet. He stumbled and fell on one knee, momentarily disoriented by the abrupt rush of magic. When he recovered and looked up, he was standing exactly in the middle of the floating piece of debris.

Well.

That was certainly not what he expected.

It took him a while to travel through the landscape of the Void. Sometimes it seemed like there was no real direction to follow, that up was down, and down was up. He used his new ability, trying to get a hang of it. There was a limit to the distance that he could travel, but each jump went smoother than the last and he no longer fell to his knees upon each transition. It felt more natural, until he didn’t have to even think about it anymore and just _blinked_ forward.

The next floating island he had to reach was placed high above his head and Alec focused on the ledge and snapped forward through the space, heaving himself up onto it with ease.

He was standing in the familiar looking gazebo. There was a dead body lying on the ground just a couple feet away from him.

“Mom!” Alec rushed forward and fell to his knees next to the blood-drenched body that looked exactly like his mother. Her corpse was cold and stiff, her eyes unseeing and milky white.

Alec felt, more than saw, the Warlock materializing beside him.

“Why are you showing me this?” Alec asked, reaching out to close his mother’s eyes and he shivered in response to how cold she was. “Does taunting me with her death bring you satisfaction?”

“No, Alexander,” the Warlock said as he crouched down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was heavy and warm and strangely enough, it brought him a small measure of comfort. “The Void is a representation of your own mind. It’s my realm to rule, yes, but those who visit often find themselves facing their biggest fears and regrets.”

The Warlock touched Maryse’s hair, so very gently, and the mirage faded away into dark smoke, blown away as if by a gust of wind. Alec thought he should feel something, seeing her vanish like that, but he didn’t. She was never there. Just a figment of his imagination.

Alec stood up. He felt like he should say something, anything, to break the silence.

“Warlock--”

“Magnus.”

“What?” Alec asked, confusion clear on his face.

“High Warlock is my title,” the other man explained even as he snapped his fingers and the gazebo slowly transformed into the room they were in before, with expensive furniture and soft purple lights, “and it’s the name my followers use to invoke my powers. But it is so tedious to use it in conversations. So I chose a different name for myself. Magnus. Magnus Bane.”

“Great destruction.”

“Seems fitting, don’t you think?” The Warlock - Magnus - smirked. “Given how most people think I am the devil incarnate.”

“Are you?” Alec asked and immediately wished he hadn’t when Magnus’ eyes narrowed. Alec really didn’t know what had come over him, antagonizing a powerful being like that.

“In the days that follow, your trials will be great, Alexander,” Magnus said, ignoring the question, much to Alec’s relief. “You should seek out the ancient runes bearing my Mark in the lonely places of your world and at the shrines raised in my name. These runes will grant you powers beyond those of other men and aid you in your quest.”

“You told me you would answer my questions,” Alec said, “and I need to know. Why me? What do you gain from all of this?”

Magnus sighed, sitting down in one of the plush chairs and waving a hand at the other one, indicating that Alec should rest as well. After hesitating, Alec complied.

“I have lived for a very long time, Alexander. I'm older than the rocks your city is built on and I will remain long after your Empire is nothing but dust. I have seen hundreds of possible paths of history, both in the past and in the present. And I see those pathways in the future as well. I cannot tell which one of them will become true. All I can do is try to make things a little more… interesting.”

Was that all that they were to him? Just pawns to play with and amuse himself with?

“And you, my dear Alexander, are really, really interesting.” Magnus laughed. “An Emperor who gave up power to protect the ones he loves. Disgraced and dishonored, what will you do now, I wonder?”

Magnus stood up abruptly and circled around Alec’s chair. Alec had to force himself not to flinch, suddenly feeling like prey being stalked by a predator.

“How you will use what I have given you falls upon you, as it has to the others before you. There are only five of you in the world, bearing my Mark. I have a feeling you are going to defy all of my expectations.”

Magnus was standing behind him now and it took all of Alec’s willpower not to turn around and keep him in his sights. He almost twitched when he felt a feather-light touch on the nape of his neck, a slow brush of fingertips against the vulnerable, exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I will return you to your world, but know that I will be watching with great interest.”

“Wait,” Alec said, hesitating for just a second before continuing, “will I ever see you again?”

He couldn’t see Magnus, as he was still standing directly behind him, but he could almost feel the wave of amusement that rolled off of the ancient being.

“If--if I have questions about these powers, I mean,” Alec added quickly, glad that Magnus couldn’t see the embarrassed flush that slowly crept up his neck and onto his face.

“I’m sure you will,” Magnus chuckled, “you are far too fascinating for me to leave alone.”

Yes, Alec was definitely blushing. He could feel the way his entire face heated up.

“And now, Alexander...”

Alec could feel warm breath on his ear, as if Magnus’ lips were just there, speaking right into it. It was intimate and enthralling and Alec couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him because of Magnus’ soft whisper.

“ _...wake up._ ”

 

* * *

 

Alec opened his eyes to the sight of the room from his dreams.

It had the same sloped ceiling, the same red brick walls and rickety furniture. But when Alec looked at the single small window, he could see the bright sunlight of a new day outside, not the purple and blue hues of the Void.

The soft sound of snoring reached his ears and when Alec looked over he saw Jace, sleeping in what looked like highly uncomfortable chair. His brother must have fallen asleep after hauling Alec’s ass to bed the night before. Alec’s heart warmed when he realized that Jace stayed behind. That he didn’t want Alec to wake up alone.

Alec wiped his face with his hands, still feeling tired and wrung out beyond imagination, but unable to fall back into sleep. He needed a bath - he still smelled like an unappealing mixture of sewers and six month’s worth of torture. A haircut wouldn’t hurt either. And then food. He needed to get his strength back as soon as possible, if he was going to rescue his brother.

Alec sat up on his bed and that was when he saw it.

A dark mark on the back of his left hand.

He ran his fingers over the brand cautiously and the same feeling of power surged through him as he touched it. Alec could _almost_ sense Magnus’ presence in the room as his thumb lingered on the mark.

Definitely not a dream, then.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“No, I cannot give him my mark.”

Alec swallowed back the protest that threatened to tear out of his throat. His fists clenched behind his back and he straightened out his spine until he was standing at attention.

Waking up again in the Void was more than a little unsettling. Alec had been recovering from his incarceration and had spent most of his first week of freedom sleeping and eating, trying to get his strength back. Jace never left his side, both during the day and during the night. He kept watch over him as he slept and was there to calm Alec down after the nightmares caused him to scream himself awake. This was the first night in over a week Alec wasn’t plagued by visions of his mother’s death or of the torture he had suffered.

Strangely enough, waking up to the blue and purple abstract landscape brought him some comfort. Maybe it was the fact that as long as he was there, the nightmares wouldn’t come.

Or maybe it was the knowledge that Magnus seemingly wanted to help.

Alec had followed the crooked path through the Void until he reached the familiar room that he suspected was Magnus’ lair. It looked exactly the same as it did during his last visit - all dark wood furniture, expensive fabrics, shadows and purple lights. The Warlock was already there, holding a glass with amber-colored liquid and looking out through a stained-glass window at the expanse of endless nothingness outside.

“Why not?” Alec asked, carefully keeping any resentment out of his voice. He might be fairly convinced that Magnus was on his side, but he still wasn’t sure just how much levity was allowed in their interactions.

Still, Alec had to press the issue. When he woke up after his first visit to the Void, Jace noticed the mark on his hand almost immediately, and Alec explained as best as he could. The two of them agreed not to mention it to anyone else, and Alec wore gloves whenever he left his room. For the past week the brothers had set out to test Alec’s new abilities. Alec would blink from one corner of the room to the other, testing the range and how often he could do it in a row.

They also talked. About what happened to Alec in the dungeons. About how Jace’s heart broke when he had to flee the castle, knowing that Alec was arrested and Max kidnapped. About rescuing Isabelle from her prison in the Tower and finding Max.

One thing was made perfectly clear, Jace was not going to sit on the sidelines and leave his siblings behind again.

“There are very few who have received my gifts,” Magnus said, “and I do not grant those powers to just anyone, no matter what their reasons are. All of my Marked have the potential to turn the tide of history. I do not see that potential in your brother.”

“Magnus…we need this,” Alec pleaded, raising his branded hand as if to prove a point. “With this I can sneak my way into _anywhere_. Jace won’t be able to do the same. But he will go with me, no matter what, and he’s going to get himself killed.”

“Like I said,” Magnus took a sip of his drink, “I won’t give him my mark. But there is another way - a loophole, if you will - if you’re willing to pay the price.”

“Deal,” Alec answered without hesitation.

Magnus raised an eyebrow at him, “You don’t even know what I am going to ask for.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Alec shook his head. “Name your price and you can have it.”

The grin that Magnus gave him was both chilling and exciting at the same time. He placed his drink on the table and with a small burst of magic he instantly closed the distance between them. Alec took an instinctive step back, startled by their sudden closeness and the back of his legs bumped into the sofa behind him.

“Do you trust me?” Magnus asked. His unnatural eyes shone with mirth and delight and Alec had the fleeting thought that the Warlock probably didn’t have a lot of chances to amuse himself like this.

Did he trust him, though? So far he had given him no reason not to, but if there was anything that Alec had learned during his lifetime in Idris, it was that most people were only looking out for themselves. And his recent months in prison, with only Valentine and his men for company, only helped to reinforce that belief.

Still… what choice did he have?

“I want to,” Alec replied, and it was the most sincere answer he could offer.

“Good enough.” The Warlock placed his hand gently in the middle of Alec’s chest and pushed him backwards, until he had no other choice but to sit down. The sofa creaked slightly at the added weight.

Alec maintained eye contact with Magnus as he leaned over him, Magnus’ left hand gripping the back of the sofa. One of his knees was placed carefully in between Alec’s thighs, and they were so close that Alec could count the individual lashes of Magnus’ black-rimmed eyes. His breath caught.

“There is a way for you to share your power with your brother,” Magnus whispered intimately and he could feel the soft, warm air washing over his cheek. It sent a shiver down Alec’s spine. With his free hand Magnus reached down to pop open the buttons of Alec’s shirt, one by one. Every move was slow and clearly telegraphed, giving Alec enough time to stop him.

Magnus placed his palm against Alec’s left side, just above his hip. His hand was soft and warm, and his fingers were splayed wide, almost like a caress. Alec couldn’t look away from Magnus’ face, even as the Warlock cast his eyes downward to look at what he was doing. Alec could feel heat building up in his body, emanating from the spot that Magnus was touching, but he had no idea if it was the effect of magic or just… just Magnus.

When the Warlock took his hand away Alec almost made a sound of protest, wanting to keep the contact between them for a little longer. His body’s response scared him a little, no one had ever made him react like that before.

“There,” Magnus murmured, finally looking up, and his eyes were filled with something that Alec couldn’t even begin to comprehend, “that should do it.”

With immense effort Alec managed to finally tear his gaze away from Magnus’ face and look down at his own body. There, where Magnus had been touching just a moment ago, was another mark. It looked complicated - more complex than the brand on his hand, for sure. Just a collection of thick lines and swirls.

“What does it do?” Alec asked quietly, touching the mark lightly, but much to his surprise, it didn’t hurt.

“If you put this rune on your brother’s body, you will be able to share my gifts.” Magnus still hadn’t moved away, leaning over Alec, but not touching him anymore. “The people of the old world called it a _parabatai_ bond. In a fight, your hearts will beat as one. In theory, you could use this rune to grant those gifts to any number of people, but it will eat away at your strength. But if it’s just your brother, you shouldn’t feel any different.”

“I--” Alec hesitated, looking up once more he inhaled sharply when he found himself in the focus of those glowing, cat-like eyes. “Thank you, Magnus.”

“I doubt that your brother will be thanking me.” The Warlock chuckled darkly. “You will need to put this rune on his body yourself. It’s not going to be as easy and as painless as it was for you.”

“Jace can handle pain, and it will be worth it,” Alec said. “But what about your price?”

Magnus smiled, all teeth and charm. He leaned down a little to press his lips against Alec’s ear, causing the younger man’s heart to skip a beat.

“That,” Magnus crooned, “is something that I will collect later.”

 

* * *

 

“What?!”

Alec stood up so fast that the chair he was sitting on clattered violently to the floor. The rage he could feel building up inside of him was almost making him dizzy.

“What did you say?” He repeated, his cold tone clearly holding the threat of violence.

The rest of the people gathered in the room were quiet, unsure how to proceed. It was the first time Alec met his rescuers for more than a couple minutes at the time, having finally recovered enough to start putting together a plan. The loyalists, as they called themselves, weren’t a very large group and the key members were all gathered in a large room above the Jade Wolf. They had barely gotten through introductions before Alec’s outburst.

“Alec--” Jace started, but Alec was having none of it.

“She’s a _Morgenstern_ ,” Alec hissed, staring at Clary with a viciousness that Jace had never seen in his brother before, “give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill her right now.”

“I’m not him,” Clary protested, but Alec wasn’t looking at her anymore, his gaze focused on Jace instead.

“Alec, please trust me on this.”

“Trust you?” Alec laughed. It was a cruel, humorless sound. “I was in prison for half a year while you were busy fucking the daughter of the man who killed our mother. How the hell am I supposed to trust you?”

“Hey!” Clary protested.

“Alec, stop it!” Jace stepped closer to Alec but before he had the chance to do anything, Alec turned on his heel and left the room, the door banging shut behind him with enough force to rattle the windows.

He made his way up to his room quickly, his long legs taking him up three steps at the time. He started to throw the most essential things onto the bed, while trying to figure out what to use as a makeshift bag. He had just grabbed his bow when the door flew open, smashing into the wall with a loud crack.

“You don’t get to pull that shit on me!” Clary was furious and if looks could kill, Alec would be a dead man already.

Alec decided that he didn’t need the rest of his belongings after all, his bow and quiver would just have to do.

“Get out of my way,” Alec growled at Clary while she blocked the exit, all five feet of her.

“No.”

Alec could see Jace coming up the stairs and he didn’t want to have to face both the Morgenstern girl and his brother at the same time.

“Get out of my way or I will make you move.”

“No,” she told him again, pushing against his chest. She actually managed to shove him back a few inches. She had some nerve, Alec had to give her that. “Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

“Like hell I will,” Alec sneered and turned his back on her, heading towards the window.

“Alec, don’t!” Jace called out, but it was too late. Alec blinked out of the room, aiming for the courtyard outside.

He wasn’t running, but it was a close thing. The anger and hurt and betrayal churned in his gut, making him want to vomit. He couldn’t believe that Jace was in love with a _Morgenstern_ , of all people. When Jace had told him about Clary, Alec had been genuinely happy for his brother. After all the shit that had happened to Jace - losing his parents so early in life and having to prove his worth in front of the nobles every single day after his adoption - he deserved to have something good. To have someone who cared for him and made him smile. All Alec ever wanted was for his family to be happy. But not like this. Not with the daughter of the man who had murdered his mother.

Alec reached the pier that stretched before the Jade Wolf and he bent down to untie the ropes that held Alaric’s boat tethered to the dock.

“Valentine poisoned my mother!”

Alec slowly stood up and turned around, his gaze falling to Clary, who was panting heavily, obviously from chasing him down so quickly. Jace was standing behind her, quiet for the moment.

“My mother’s name was Jocelyn,” Clary started, after taking a deep breath, “and she was an artist. She painted portraits of royal families, nobles and wealthy merchants. She painted you too, but you were too young to remember her, I think.”

Clary came down the steps that led from the courtyard to the pier, closing the distance between them a little.

“My mother found out that Valentine had hired the assassin who killed the Empress. She brought that information to Luke, who was an old friend and an admiral in the royal fleet. But they had no evidence, so my mother agreed to spy on Valentine.”

Clary looked close to crying but she continued nonetheless, even as she finally came to a stop in front of Alec.

“He found out. Somehow, he found out. He poisoned her and blamed it on the ones who conspired against him. They all had to run. Those who didn’t escape were killed. And I ran away with them, because I couldn’t stand living under the same roof as that monster. I don’t even call him father anymore, not after what he did.” Clary laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. She had tears running down her face.

“I’m so, so sorry that you lost your mother, Alec,” Clary said, cautiously reaching out to touch Alec’s arm, “but my mom died too. And we both have only one man to blame.”

Alec swallowed and sat down at the edge of the pier, his feet dangling just above the water level. Leaning forward slightly, Alec hunched over and hid his face in his hands, desperately wishing to get his emotions back in check. He felt someone on his left and after a short moment, another person joined on his right, the two people bracketing him and keeping him from falling apart.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said, to both of them, “I shouldn’t take my anger out on you.”

“It’s okay,” Jace replied, bumping Alec’s shoulder with his own, making Alec drop his hands and stop hiding behind them.

“It’s really not.”

“I imagine I would be pissed off as well,” Clary said, looking down at the murky water below them, “if I was in your place.”

The three of them sat in silence for a long while, watching the birds flying over the river and tracking the movement of the boats slowly struggling against the current. Alec could feel the anger simmering in his chest ease down to more tolerable levels.

“Are you okay?” Clary asked eventually, nudging his foot with hers.

“No,” he replied, his gaze still stuck on the high tower of Idris castle, picturing Izzy in there, locked away and imprisoned, “but I will be.”

“Once we kill Valentine,” Jace said, his voice sure.

“Once we kill Valentine,” Alec confirmed.

Clary only nodded.

“So,” Clary said after a long moment, not looking at Alec while she was busy picking up a piece of lint of her pants, “since when do you have magic?”

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure about this?” Alec asked, locking the door to his room to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Hell no,” Jace let out a nervous huff as he stripped off his jacket and shirt, “but it’s the only way, isn’t it?”

Alec’s breath caught when he noticed a large scar across Jace’s right shoulder blade. The scar looked fairly new.

“What is that?”

“This?” Jace looked over his shoulder at Alec, and twisted a little until he could touch the pink scar. “I got this while escaping the castle. Valentine’s men tried to stop me and I got ambushed. One of the guards caught me by surprise.”

The scar was long and ugly and it looked like the guard’s blade went in deep. Alec pictured Jace running away, hunted like a dog through the streets of the city as he bled out. He let out an unhappy sound, not even fully aware of what he was doing.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jace told him as he lay down on Alec’s bed and took his belt off, the leather moving with a whisper through the loops of his pants, “it looks worse than it is.”

Alec wasn’t sure he believed him, but decided to let it go. He walked over to the fireplace and took a long look at the handle of the poker protruding from the flames.

“This is going to suck,” Jace muttered and Alec just huffed, a silent agreement on his part.

The branding iron had been custom made. When Alec had woken up from his last visit to the Void, it became clear what they needed to do. Jace copied Alec’s new rune onto a sheet of paper and Alec took it down to Simon. The young scientist played the role of engineer and craftsman for the loyalists, providing them with equipment, upgrades and technology.

Simon was sceptical about the requisition that Alec made, since Alec didn’t really explain what he needed it for, but he had fulfilled the request nevertheless.

Alec wrapped a thick piece of cloth around the handle and pulled the new branding iron out of the fire, and sure enough, it was bright red, so hot that the air around it seemed to move.

“I can see it on your face. You don’t want to do it,” Jace accused from his spot on the bed. Alec just gave him an unimpressed look.

“You think?”

“Alec, come on,” Jace shook his head, “this will be less painful than carving the rune with a knife. Or anything else we can come up with in such a short time, really. I know you don’t want to hurt me but we need this. We’re going to save Izzy and Max. Just do it.”

Alec nodded, and somewhat reluctantly moved to stand over the bed. Jace eyed the branding iron warily, then sighed and placed the belt in his mouth, biting down on it.

He gave Alec a quick nod and then…

...then he screamed.

 

* * *

 

The loyalists were such a bizarre group.

As the days passed, Alec got to know their members a little better. He wasn’t quite sure what made them all come together, since at first glance they seemed to have absolutely nothing in common. Maybe it was because most of them were Downworlders.

And wasn’t that a fun fact to discover.

His entire life Alec had been taught that Downworlders were the dregs of the High Warlocks magic. The cursed creatures that, if discovered by the Clave, were to be exterminated on sight. Just a step above animals. Some of the natural philosophers and scientists even believed that they were the source of the plague that was decimating Idris.

Luke, Alaric and a couple of others were werewolves. Alec had always been taught that lycanthropes were no better than wild dogs, prone to attacking and killing at the slightest provocation. But Alec looked at Luke - who was more of a father to Clary than Valentine ever was - and saw the truth. Once, he saw them sitting on the pier, talking about Jocelyn. Luke had an arm around Clary’s shoulders, holding her close as she cried, missing her mother. The girl looked tiny compared to him, and Luke could probably break her in half with barely any effort. Yet there he was, comforting her, holding her like she was something fragile and precious and worth protecting.

How could anyone think of these people as monsters?

Simon was a vampire. Alec wouldn’t have realized it if Clary hadn’t pointed it out to him. He didn’t really connect the fact that he had never seen Simon in the daylight with his status as the undead. He didn’t look menacing in the slightest. Simon was a klutz and a motor-mouth, often awkwardly trying to lighten the mood with jokes that no one but him and Clary understood. He resembled a hopeless puppy more than a soulless, violent creature of the night.

Catarina, the doctor who had patched Alec up when he first turned up in the Jade Wolf, was apparently a witch. There were others too. The loyalists also had a fair amount of humans, all mingling together freely with the Downworlders, apparently not bothered by their connection to the dreaded High Warlock.

Alec couldn’t wrap his head around it, so he swiftly decided to ignore it for the time being. He had other things to focus on before he could tackle the hypocrisy and propaganda that the Clave used to poison his country.

Alec and Jace took a some time off to train, giving Jace a chance to figure out how the shared powers worked. His blinking range was much shorter than Alec’s, which wasn’t really surprising. They spent two days running on rooftops, shifting from one place to another, trying to get a hang of how to work together and stay hidden. Alec and Jace didn't try and keep their practice sessions secret, but still took care to hide the source of their newfound power. Taking up magic was one thing, but having the mark of The High Warlock was another.

But finally there was nothing else left to do but act. Alec had recovered substantially from his wounds and Jace was as ready as ever, armed with the additional advantage of Alec’s shared abilities.

It was time to get back what was taken from them.

“We need to be smart about how we approach Valentine,” Luke said during a meeting that took place late evening, just a couple hours before their first mission. “Our goal is clear - to restore the Empress’ line and put Max Lightwood on the throne. It would be best to first take out all the people that Valentine relies on. When his supporters are out of the picture, it will be easier to take him down. Once we prove that he’s a colossus with feet of clay.”

“Take him apart, piece by piece,” Jace said, casting a quick glance around the room. Apart from him, Alec and Luke, the other seats were filled by Clary, Alaric and Simon.

Luke nodded and reached to the rickety shelf behind him and grabbed a large scroll, which he spread out on the table. It was a map of a building and after a moment Alec realized that it was the headquarters of the Clave.

“Tonight you will take care of the Clave’s Inquisitor, Malachi Dieudonne. Getting to him won’t be easy. He will be protected by his overseers, an army of religious zealots.” Luke looked up from the map at Alec and Jace. “If anyone can get to him, it will be you two. Your exploits in the army and in the service of the Empress are well known. We take him out, by any means necessary.”

Luke pointed on the map to a west wing of the building on the third floor.

“We can’t be sure of Dieudonne’s exact location tonight, but he should be somewhere around here. Those are the rooms and offices assigned to the Inquisitor. There is also a second task you must carry out tonight. Dieudonne carries a private journal - a black book, of sorts. He uses it to keep track of the Clave’s business that he doesn’t want to put in the official records, for one reason or another. Once you eliminate him, you need to get the journal. We are fairly certain it contains Max’s location.”

They spent more time studying the map and the layout of the building. Alec was pretty sure he wanted to stay outside for as long as possible, to avoid being cornered in an unfamiliar location. They could probably try to make it to the third floor by using the ledges that ran around the building. Normally, it wouldn’t be possible, but they had Magnus’ help now.

“One more thing,” Luke said as the meeting came to an end and people filed out, “Dieudonne is holding captive a former overseer, Lydia Branwell. She’s one of us. If you manage to find her please give her whatever help you can. We all signed up for this knowing we might be discovered and willing to lay down our lives for the cause. But if you can save her, she is a powerful ally and a loyal friend.”

“If we see her, we’ll help, but Max is my priority.”

“That’s understandable,” Luke said, “when you’re ready, go see Alaric in the docks. He will get you as close to the Clave’s district as he can.”

Alec nodded and turned to leave the room but Luke’s voice stopped him once more.

“Assassination is a dark business, Alec. Sometimes good men have to do bad things to make the world right. But that darkness, it never really goes away. I know you want revenge for what has been done to you. I know you want to avenge your mother. But if you find a way to eliminate Dieudonne without actually taking his life, I want you to take it. If only for your own peace of mind, afterwards.”

Alec had no reply for him, so he left the room without a word. He wasn’t going to go on a killing spree, no matter how much he actually wanted to do it.

But no one in the Jade Wolf seemed to understand what was going through his mind. They all thought he was consumed with the need for bloodshed, or carrying out revenge for his mother. Yes, Alec was mad. He could feel the anger burning in his gut, the unspoken need to make things right again, to _fix_ everything, like he always did. If he had to leave a trail of corpses behind him to accomplish this, so be it.

But at the same time, Alec had been named Lord Protector for a reason. He never took a life needlessly, unless he had no other choice. He cared about the people of Idris, no matter how misguided and prejudiced they were. Alec was the one who always found a way out of hopeless situations.

No one apart from Jace seemed to get it, but then again, his brother knew him better than anyone.

And weirdly enough, it looked like Magnus was also well aware of Alec’s thoughts, given how easily he gave him means to exact his revenge, if he chose to.

“There you are,” Jace said as Alec finally made it out of the Jade Wolf and into the courtyard, “Simon wanted to speak with us before we left.”

They made their way to Simon’s workshop, a place filled with books, machinery and all sorts of bits and pieces that Alec didn’t know the use for. Simon emerged from underneath a worktable, where he had been looking for a lost screw. He managed to bump his head in the process. “Ow. Crap. Hey guys. Okay, I have something for you, just give me a minute.”

Alec watched, somewhat unimpressed, as Simon rummaged through a mountain of papers, searching for something. They had spent some time here before, getting fitted for weapons and gadgets that would make it easier to sneak around, like gas grenades and sleeping darts. One of Alec’s favorites was the rewire tool, which could be used to reverse the current of the electronic defences and blow them up. Valentine seemed to install the blasted things all over the city, raising up the security of the checkpoints on the streets.

“We don’t have time for this,” Jace growled impatiently, as he leaned on the doorframe, clearly displeased that they were being forced to wait.

“The idea came to me the other night, just as I was falling asleep,” Simon started, “and I couldn’t go to bed until I finished it. It often happens that way - the best designs come to me in dreams. Oh, here they are.”

Simon finally found what he was looking for and returned, carrying his offerings in both hands.

The mystery gifts turned out to be masks that fit over the entire face, with  thin but durable straps that kept them on. Both were smooth and had a polished look to them, a little bit like the masks that the nobles wore for costume parties.

“You’re wanted men,” Simon said, “and everyone in the city knows your faces. But these masks will hide your identity. And who knows? Maybe in time they will become symbols of change.”

Jace’s mask was solid black, with intricate lines carved into the surface in delicate loops and swirls. Alec’s mask was similar, but the complicated designs were filled with gold, thin and subtle enough that they wouldn’t reflect light and bring any attention to him while he was lurking in the shadows.

Simon caught Alec looking at his mask and flushed, slight embarrassment making him wring his hands.

“I hope that it isn't too much,” Simon said, “I’m not even sure why I had to make that one in gold. It just seemed fitting, you know? Gold for the Emperor that never ruled?”

Alec was slowly starting to realize exactly _who_ was the source of Simon’s inspiration. He could bet that Magnus was sitting in his armchair in the Void, observing him and feeling more than a little smug.


	3. Chapter 3

Alaric steered the boat towards the rocky shore, not too far away from the one of the sewer pipes that siphoned the waste out of the city and into the sea. It was a dark and cold night, the chill of early autumn seeping deep into their bones. Alec thanked whatever higher power was looking out for them (he didn’t think _Magnus_ had control over the weather) that at least it didn’t rain.

“This is going to be rough,” Alaric said as he slowed down and prepared to dock, “you used to be able to just walk into the Clave building, but now it’s not that easy. Half the city is dead with the plague, the other half is fighting over what’s left. City watch still holds the main streets, but it’s all gangs and looters in most of the districts. That, plus Valentine installed walls of light at most street checkpoints.”

Alec scowled. He had had an opportunity to see that invention a couple days ago, when he and Jace ran over the rooftops during their training. A wall of light had been installed a couple streets away from where the Jade Wolf was.

“There are some odd birds living on the fringes of the districts,” Alaric continued as the boat gently hit the rocky beach, “like that Ragnor Fell fellow. Most people say he’s nuts.”

“And what do you say?” Jace asked as he hopped out of the boat, his voice slightly muffled by the mask.

“Well, I know that he’s a warlock.”

Alec’s head whipped around sharply to look at him.

“Not _the_ Warlock, of course,” Alaric added quickly, “just a regular warlock. Like how Catarina is witch. They both have magic.” He winced. “Ah crap, I’m not explaining it very well, am I?”

“Is this Ragnor going to be a problem?” Alec asked. “Do we need to seek him out?”

“Not a problem, no,” Alaric tied the boat to a fallen tree that jutted out of the water, “but Catarina knows him. She said he could be of assistance to our group, though he didn’t want to come to the Jade Wolf with the rest of us.”

They moved out once they got their directions from Alaric and set up a meeting point behind the Clave headquarters to regroup after Dieudonne had been taken care of.

The city seemed hardly changed at first glance. The same high and grim buildings with their dirty facades, a mosaic of grey and brown brick. The street lamps of dark iron, fueled by whale oil, that tried - and failed - to illuminate all of the nooks and crannies that they could use to fool the guards. Alec couldn’t see the moon that should be hanging above their heads, but that was also nothing new. The smog of the city and the pollution from the whaling district had been obscuring it for as long as he could remember. Even the smell was familiar - a mixture of garbage, sewer waste and the ever permeating, distinctive scent of whale oil.

But Alec knew Idris like the back of his hand. It wasn’t hard for him to spot all the differences that followed after his imprisonment. The streets were mostly empty and he didn’t know if it was because of the plague or the increased patrols, but he suspected it was a mixture of both. A vast amount of buildings seemed abandoned and bore signs on the front doors - a large ‘x’, scrawled with red paint. Even the homes that were still in use had dark and boarded up windows, as if the residents were afraid that lights would bring unwanted attention upon their heads.

But perhaps the most obvious, most startling sign that Idris was dying, were the corpses.

Alec saw countless bodies littering the streets. Some were wrapped up with care in sheets and linens, probably by their loved ones. Others, who had no one left in the world, were not so lucky. Their cold, plague-ridden bodies rested in ungraceful piles of dead flesh, waiting for the special patrol of city watch who gathered the dead every night. As if they were trash to be removed before the light hit the streets. Gone before the noble citizens of Idris could see their disgrace.

Just thinking about it made Alec sick to his stomach. He saw two watchmen dumping bodies into the ocean, not far away from where Alaric docked the boat and he could feel the cold, quiet anger bubbling inside his gut. These were his citizens. His to protect and save, even if he was not in charge of Idris. Even if they _had_ to end up in a shared grave or mass pyre, they deserved to be treated with dignity. Not dumped into the sea like chum for sharks.

And the rats. They seemed to be everywhere. Creeping out of sewers and pipes, gathering in the shadows and crawling over the piles of bodies like a writhing wave of claws and teeth. The swarm of black fur, moving together like one shared organism with a hive mind, stripping the flesh off bones with startling speed and efficiency. The more corpses filled the streets, the thicker the horde of rats was. Alec saw them attacking the living too, those unfortunate souls that were mauled to death after being cornered and unable to escape.

 

* * *

 

 “Give it up, Ragnor! We know you’re in there!”

Alec leaned slightly over the edge of the roof and peered onto the street below. He and Jace were busy trying to find a route that would take them over the wall of light outpost blocking the street. He had seen the device in action before. A plague-infected man tried to sneak his way around the blockade as they watched and got caught in the wall’s area of effect. He had been killed in an instant, his body electrocuted with enough power to turn him into a handful of ash.

Which was why they searched for an alternate route to take them over the checkpoint, but it was easier said than done. The rooftops in that particular area of the city were sloped at sharp angles and the tiles were slippery with moisture. Alec and Jace moved cautiously to avoid slipping and breaking their necks.

“Open up, you crazy freak!”

The man bellowing like a maniac was tall and impossibly broad, with a massive neck and arms as thick as tree trunks. He had a group of three following him and they all seemed to be staring into a window on the second floor of the next building, as if they were expecting to see someone in there. This ‘Ragnor’, apparently. The same man that Alaric told them about.

“Should we do something?” Jace asked, looking down as well, crouched next to Alec. “It might be worth checking out.”

“Non-lethal approach only,” Alec said and reached over his shoulder for his quiver. It was another one of Simon’s inventions. The quiver had different compartments in it for arrows with different properties and Alec could tell which were which just by touch. The arrow he pulled out had its feathers tipped with black.

He fired, aiming for the cobblestone patch in the middle of the group. Immediately the arrow exploded with a cloud of thick black smoke, making the men cough and wipe at their stinging eyes. Jace and Alec blinked down onto the street - it became more and more natural to move by magic with each and every use - and Jace fired two sleeping darts from his wrist crossbow that Simon made for him. Alec slung his bow over his back once more and attacked the leader of the group from behind, pulling him into a chokehold. He could hear Jace doing the same to the remaining man and was more than a little thankful that the masks blocked out the smoke and the burning stench of sulfur.

The fight was over before it even really began. Alec and Jace moved the unconscious bodies into a dark corner of the street, where they wouldn’t be immediately found, and then blinked onto a balcony on the second floor, where the door was slightly ajar.

“Well done,” a voice startled Alec after they entered a large, shadowed room. It wasn’t often that someone could sneak up on him. “Thank you for the help with those ill-mannered ruffians. All that shouting and pounding on my door was starting to give me a headache.”

“Ragnor Fell?” Jace asked, his hand shifting towards the sword he had strapped to his side, just in case.

“Who else?” the man said. He was dressed in clothing that once upon a time probably was rich and expensive, but now showed signs of wear and age, indicating a possible fall from fortune. An ex-noble, perhaps? His hair was just slightly too long and white as snow, despite the fact that the man didn’t seem to be very old.

“What was that all about?” Jace asked, gesturing  over his back with his thumb.

“You must be Alexander,” Ragnor said, ignoring Jace’s question completely and turning to Alec, “Magnus told me you would be coming.”

Alec nearly choked on his own spit.

“Y-you know Magnus?”

“But of course.” Ragnor waved a dismissive hand, as if being familiar with the High Warlock was no big deal at all. “He is one of my oldest and dearest friends. We go way back together.”

“And you talk to him?” Jace carried on when it became apparent that Alec’s brain had short-circuited momentarily. His voice was filled with doubt and Alec could just imagine him raising one eyebrow behind his mask.

“This very morning. And since you helped me with those thugs outside I guess I can offer you a gift, as my thanks.” Ragnor pointed to a doorway a couple feet away from them. “Just take the stairs down. If you want it, you will find a little something from our shared friend in my basement.”

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all,” Jace muttered to himself, but Alec caught it anyways.

“Why?” Alec asked, finally finding his voice. “Why would you want to help me?”

“Apart from the fact that I’ve listened to Magnus spout poetry about the beauty of your ‘magnificent hazel eyes’ for most of my morning?” Ragnor asked and smirked at the way the younger man twitched. He could just bet that he was blushing like mad and almost wished he could see it, if only to further amuse himself. “We seem to have something else in common.”

Slowly, so very slowly, Ragnor raised his left hand, previously hidden in his coat pocket. Alec inhaled sharply when he saw a dark brand, much like his own, and realized that Ragnor was one of the five Marked.

 

* * *

 

 “Are you sure about this?” Jace asked, eyeing the shrine wearily. “Because this looks shady as fuck.”

Alec let out a sharp bark of humorless laughter as he eyed the makeshift shrine in Ragnor’s basement. It was made from driftwood and barbed wire, a rough construction adorned with sheets of purple cloth circling around it, like a flower’s center that was framed by petals. There was something scattered around it, some kind of shimmering dust Alec had never seen before. It shined and reflected the light with a multitude of colors. The shrine itself seemed to emanate violet, pulsing light, in a rhythm not unlike a heartbeat. There were a couple of whale oil lamps around it but weirdly enough, Alec couldn’t smell their usual scent. He smelled only sandalwood and sea salt instead. In the middle of the shrine was a strange object that seemed to be calling out to Alec. He could hear it singing for him, an eerie sound between a hiss and glass chimes blowing in the wind. It was a sound that grated on his nerves and demanded attention.

Jace said he couldn’t hear anything.

The item turned out to be a flat chunk of whale bone, surrounded by a frame of iron and amber. It had polished, rounded edges, like the stones you could sometimes find on the beach, smoothed out by years of exposure to waves and sand. It had a rune carved in the middle - a rune that Alec had not seen before.

“No,” Alec replied, “but we probably are going to need this.” He breathed in deeply. “I’ve never gotten a rune while awake before.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Jace said, “I’ve got your back.”

Alec never doubted that for a second.

The world bled out to black as soon as his hand touched the rune. It was a bit of a jarring sensation, but not entirely bad. He felt suspended in nothingness for a long moment, floating in a sea of darkness that almost seemed to embrace him, like an old friend he had not seen for years. Which was a little ridiculous, Alec thought.

Eventually he felt his feet hitting solid ground and sure enough, he found himself in the now familiar surroundings of Magnus’ lair.

“I see you met Ragnor,” a voice from behind him said and Alec whipped around to look at the Warlock, “I promise he’s not as crazy as people think he is.”

“He has your mark.”

“He does,” Magnus agreed, “I did say that there are five of you, did I not?”

“Will I ever meet all of them?”

“Hmm,” Magnus titled his head slightly to the side, “it’s possible that you will cross paths with at least one more. It’s difficult to say at this point, there are too many possible outcomes to consider.”

Alec nodded and looked down at the rune he somehow still held tightly in his grasp. Magnus’ steps were soundless but Alec could feel him coming closer, as if the shadows moved along with him, alerting Alec to the movement.

“How does this work, exactly?” Alec asked. “A different rune for a different ability?”

“More or less,” Magnus confirmed. “When the rune is put on your body, you will gain its power.”

“And what does this one do?” Alec turned the polished bone around in his hands, noticing the little imperfections on the the otherwise smooth surface, the way it cracked slightly in the back. The iron and amber frame had a light dusting of corrosion in a couple of spots, which probably meant that it was old. Couple decades at least, though Alec suspected it was actually much older.

“It will allow you to see,” Magnus said, his tone weirdly soft and low and Alec felt a shiver run down his spine at the strange intimacy, “a sort of dark vision, if you would like a name. You will be able to see in the dark. The enemy’s movement will be clear to you, even through walls. I imagine it will be quite useful.”

Alec’s gaze jerked back from the rune to Magnus’ face and he wasn’t surprised to see the intense, gold-colored eyes looking at him.

“This-- this is… _Magnus_ ,” Alec sighed when his words failed him once again. “Yes. This will be really helpful. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, darling.” Alec refused to blush at the nickname. “Where do you want me to put the rune?”

Alec took a moment to consider his options, before slowly shrugging off his coat, the heavy fabric falling to the dark wood floor with a quiet thump. His shirt followed next, after he carefully unbuttoned it and slid it of his broad shoulders. Alec kept eye contact with Magnus throughout it all, pleased to see the Warlock’s eyes flicker to his exposed flesh for a fraction of a second.

“Here,” Alec touched his left arm briefly. Magnus nodded and reached out for him, the surprisingly warm hand wrapping carefully around Alec’s bicep. The long, tanned fingers grasping him stood out in stark contrast to Alec’s paler skin. His touch was gentle and Alec was slowly getting used to the peculiar tenderness that Magnus kept showing him.

It was… nice. Alec’s life wasn’t exactly filled with tactility. His parents weren’t the types to show emotions too much. Izzy and Jace weren’t afraid of touching, but they definitely outgrew their childhood tendencies for surprise hug attacks. And then there was Max, still so very young, who insisted on piggyback rides and goodnight kisses.

Alec had worried, more than once, about the life that Max would have once he took the throne. He swore to protect his brother from the loss of that childish innocence, but he feared it might be too late. Max had already seen too much. Their mother’s murder was just the start and who knew what else he had had to go through while Alec rotted in the dungeons?

Magnus’ soft exhale pulled Alec out of his thoughts and he focused on the warmth radiating from the Warlock’s hand, spreading through his body in a soothing wave. After a moment Magnus’ thumb shifted slightly, stroking at Alec’s skin slowly and Alec could see the sharp, black lines of the new rune underneath his fingers.

Neither of them moved and Alec was just staring at Magnus’ hand where it still lingered on his arm. The Warlock seemed to be content with the simple touch for a while, before moving away. Alec immediately missed the warmth.

“I imagine your brother is getting impatient.” Magnus smiled and watched curiously as Alec dressed. Alec had a strange feeling he didn’t really have to put his clothes back on again - it wasn’t like undressing in the Void would result in him being naked in the real world.

At least he hoped not.

“So,” Alec said, desperately trying to fight the wave of mortification at the idea, “how do I get out now? It’s not like I can wake up if I didn’t go to sleep in the first place.”

“You didn’t, but it works the same way,” Magnus said. “Your body is awake but your mind is here. If you wish yourself awake, you will.”

“Seems like a lot of your magic is based on belief and wishes,” Alec muttered, finishing buttoning up his shirt.

Magnus just laughed and snapped his fingers.

Alec woke up with a start, his body swaying for a second with a feeling of vertigo that overcame him. Strong hands caught him by the shoulders and Alec blinked owlishly a couple of times before he realized that Jace was staring at him with concern.

“How long was I out?” Alec rasped, trying to shake off the pins and needles that spread through his body, his muscles relaxing one by one after staying still like a statue. He had not moved an inch from the altar in Ragnor’s basement, his hand still hovering over the spot where the rune used to be. It was empty now.

“Only a minute or so.”

Alec blinked again. It definitely felt longer. Time must pass differently on the other side.

“You went really still and quiet and you had this glossy look in your eyes,” Jace said and grimaced. “You freaked me out there for a moment.”

“Sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jace let him go when it became clear that Alec wasn’t going to topple over and fall flat on his face. “So… how’s your new friend doing?”

 

* * *

 

 Getting into the main courtyard of the Clave headquarters was so easy that Alec was torn between laughing and cursing at whomever was responsible for security. One of his duties as the Royal protector was finding all the possible nooks and crannies that a potential assassin could slip through and, while he wasn’t responsible for the Clave’s building, he could see the weak spots without even trying.

Dark vision, as it turned out, couldn’t be shared between the _parabatai_ bond, but Jace didn’t really need it. Getting in unnoticed proved to be no challenge at all, even without the supernatural powers.

After getting through the first gate - and bypassing the wall of light by travelling on the rooftops was a no-brainer - they spotted something hidden away high on the rooftops that made them pause. There was a statue in the middle of a small plaza in front of the guard house and they could see a woman shackled to the stocks. Her arms were stretched to the sides uncomfortably and her neck was bound in a collar that was chained to the ground, making her kneel in an obviously painful position. A guardswoman stood over her, wearing a smug expression, but instead of being chided, the prisoner’s eyes were filled with fire and fury.

“So how is it, Branwell?” the guard sneered. “Is it true that on the third day the skin starts to come off? Or maybe the itching? Oh wait, I bet it’s the rats. Have they started nibbling on you yet?”

“Alderdice, wasn’t it?” Branwell asked. “It wouldn’t be so bad in here, except I miss your husband.”

Alec couldn’t see the guardswoman’s expression but he could guess pretty well what it looked like. He could hear Jace snickering beside him.

“You don’t scare easily, I’ll give you that. But that’ll change.”

Alec could see her reaching for a knife she had hidden in her boot and he decided that he had seen enough. He scanned the surroundings quickly, finding no other living soul there, and blinked behind the guard. Alec had her in a chokehold and unconscious quickly and by the time he hid her body behind a dumpster, Jace managed to unlock the shackles holding Branwell captive.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she protested when Jace tried to help her up and she stood on her own, albeit a little stiffly at first. She looked at them both and her stare seemed to see right through their masks.

“I know who you are,” she said, “and I know what your mission is. Thank you for helping me, but now you need to hurry. Dieudonne is entertaining guests tonight - guest he intends to _remove_ out of his way for power. My informant told me that he’s going to poison them. Maybe you can use that to your advantage.”

She swayed a little once more, reaching up to rub at her neck. Alec saw a ring of bruised skin there. A day or two more in the stocks and her skin would really start to peel right off.

“Alaric will be waiting for us in the backyard behind the Clave headquarters,” Alec said, reaching for his belt to take a little phial of _Isabelle’s Health Elixir_ and handed it over to Branwell. Apart from keeping people safe from the plague, the elixir could be used to heal minor injuries pretty quickly. “Do you think you can make it there on your own?”

“Yes.” She downed the potion quickly and grimaced at the slightly sour taste. “Make sure you get that black book of his. We need to find your brother, as soon as possible.”

She seemed less pale just moments after drinking the elixir and her hands stopped shaking almost immediately. Alec really needed to ask Izzy someday what the hell she put in that thing for it to have such effect.

Though, given the taste, maybe he didn’t want to know.

 

* * *

 

In the end, it was all very anti-climatic.

Alec and Jace moved from rooftop to rooftop until they reached the Clave building and then blinked onto the narrow stone ledge that ran around the entire headquarters. None of the guards noticed them, not even the overseers that roamed both the yard and the halls inside.

Alec wanted to split up, tried to tell Jace to stay outside and remove the guards from sight. It was less dangerous than infiltrating the building itself and it would make their escape easier. But Jace was having none of it, insisting on going with him.

“No one dies tonight but Dieudonne, got it?” Alec said, his tone harsh and commanding and while Jace couldn’t see his face, he could just bet that Alec was frowning. He nodded.

It took some time to move through the corridors and hallways, as they tried to stay unnoticed. Stealth was all about patience, and Alec had more than enough of it to play the waiting game. They subdued the guards, moving them around so that their unconscious bodies wouldn’t be found.

Their path through the building took them through the interrogation room and Alec tried to suppress his flinch when he saw the torture chair, but he wasn’t really successful.

“Is this where--” Jace’s voice was quiet and he sounded worried.

“Yes,” Alec cut him off, turning away from the chair that he had spent hours in, screaming his lungs out as Valentine tried to coerce him into confessing to killing his mother. “Let’s just go.”

They found Dieudonne in a large, richly-furnished room where a feast was prepared and a tray of drinks waited for the guests. He was alone, but that was probably going to change any minute now. Alec silently pointed to Jace’s sleep darts and then to their target. Jace hesitated, not entirely sure where Alec was going with it, but shot the man anyways.

Alec crouched over the unconscious Dieudonne and searched him quickly, while Jace spilled the expensive bottles of poison-laced alcohol, just in case anyone from the building staff wanted a taste. Alec made a little sound of triumph as he found a small, leather-bound journal, which he tossed to Jace. His brother caught it quickly and hid it in the confines of his coat.

Alec had the man at his mercy now. He held his sword to Dieudonne’s throat and was perfectly aware that one, tiny push would be all it would take.

But this wasn’t like Alec. His thoughts kept going back to what Luke said before their departure. _‘Assassination is a dark business’_ . It was a road from which you could not return. There was something deep inside of Alec, a part of him that was hurt and twisted and so fucking _angry_ and what had been done to him and his family. That dark side of him wanted to tear out Dieudonne’s heart, so he could toss it before Valentine’s feet later on. It wanted to impale Dieudonne’s dead body on a flagpost, to drive the point home that you did _not_ fuck with his family and walk away unharmed.

But it wasn’t Alec’s nature, and he knew that. He was the protector, the defender and he did not thrive on terrorizing the people of his city, no matter what their crimes were. He stomped down hard on that part of himself that screamed for the kill. Alec swallowed, feeling as if his throat was stuffed with cotton, and put away his sword.

“Alec, what the hell?” Jace hissed, crouching next to his brother. “We need to go, we’re out of time.” He hesitated and when he spoke again his voice was calmer, more gentle. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No.” Alec shook his head, “I have a better idea.”

 

* * *

 

Whatever was inside of Jace’s sleeping darts was really strong, because Dieudonne barely twitched as they carried him across the now empty hallways (courtesy of Jace clearing the path for them) and strapped the man down in the interrogation chair.

Alec thought that he should enjoy this, but he didn’t. He wanted Dieudonne to wake and realize who was sealing his fate, but he had never been the gloating type.

“I feel like I’m getting too good at this,” Alec murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, but Jace still snorted. Alec held the cool end of a branding iron and looked at the red-hot metal on the other end.

The Heretic’s Brand. The highest form of punishment for members of the Clave and the overseers who committed a crime against the faith but did not break any civil laws. Once Dieudonne was marked by it, no one would give him aid or shelter, for fear of becoming a pariah as well.

In a way, Alec thought, this was worse than death. He was going to destroy the man’s life without taking it.

That wasn’t going to stop him, though. Alec steeled himself for the screams and pressed the brand against Dieudonne’s cheek.

 

* * *

 

The path to Alaric’s boat was easier than they anticipated, given that the Clave headquarters was on high alert after Dieudonne’s disappearance from the banquet room. They had very little time to escape the building but managed to climb out through one of the windows before heavy iron bars fell over them and the alarms rang into the night.

Alec was starting to feel fatigue creeping in, both physical and mental. There was a bone-deep exhaustion slowly settling in his bones as a result of using his new powers so extensively. Thankfully, Alaric was waiting for them on a small strip of pebbled beach at the bottom of a cliff where the back yard ended. Climbing down was a challenge, but they managed it. Lydia Branwell was waiting there as well and the four of them left the shore as soon as they sat down in the boat.

Alec fell onto his bed the minute they made it back to the Jade Wolf, trusting Jace to give Dieudonne’s journal to Luke. He just shook of his coat and weapons and took off his mask and was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. There were no dreams, not this time. The Void didn’t pull him in, as if Magnus could sense how weary he was and decided to let him rest. He woke up hours later, long after the sun reached the highest point on the sky.

He went down to the restaurant, still only half-conscious and fighting the pull of sleep. The cook placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him soon after he sat down at one of the tables and he nodded at her in thanks before shoveling the food into his mouth. Alec was nearly done with his meal when Luke slid into the seat opposite of him. Alec raised his eyebrow at the other man as he chewed through the rest of his scrambled eggs.

“So while you were getting your beauty sleep,” Luke said after placing Dieudonne’s black book on the table, “we were busy with this little thing. And I think we should get drinks now, since we have a reason to celebrate.”

“You managed to crack it?” Alec asked after swallowing the last bite of his food. He had taken a peek at the journal while they were on the boat and it was clear that its contents were written in code.

“Better yet,” Luke said while grinning and it was an expression Alec wasn’t used to seeing on the usually stoic man, “we know where they are keeping Max.”


	4. Chapter 4

Alec took a sip of his drink and winced a little at the sharp taste. He never really got used to alcohol, never even really liked it. But there were days when you needed a drink and this was definitely one of those days.

He knew he was hiding. He had ditched the Loyalists meeting as soon as he could, nearly running out of the room once Luke gave them an all-clear. He had dodged Jace and ignored his brother as he called after him. Now he was outside and the sun was slowly setting over the river. The outline of Idris that he could see far on the other shore was illuminated by soft orange light, making it look almost beautiful. In the early dusk you couldn’t see the filth and corruption that ran deep through his city. You couldn’t see the corpses and rats and blood filling the street gutters.

Alec sighed, taking another long drink and shifting his gaze to the thick fog rolling over the river, obscuring the currents. He hoped Alaric knew these waters well, otherwise they were going to be in trouble when they set out tonight.

“There you are,” a voice behind him said but he didn’t turn to look. He leaned back until his shoulder blades touched the wall behind him and kept his gaze on the river.

“I thought it would be Jace who found me first,” he eventually answered, kicking his legs out a little. He was sitting on the ledge that ran around the small watch tower, where the Loyalists prepared quarters for Max. The tower stood just next to the Jade Wolf and loomed over Simon’s workshop below. There was an extra route to it from the window in Alec’s room, where someone build a narrow wooden bridge, high above the ground. Jace told him that it was purposeful, so that Alec could reach Max quickly, in case they were attacked.

“He wanted to,” Clary confirmed as she sat down next to him, not phased about the height or the violent rolling of waves crashing on the sharp rocks below them, “but I told him to wait. I feel like we need to talk and I come bearing gifts.”

She showed him the bottle of whiskey she brought with her, along with two glasses. Alec raised his own hand, indicating that he already had a glass and she just shrugged, before pouring more of the amber-colored liquid into it. Alec tried not to snort as she made a face at the taste of her own drink.

“By the Void, this is nasty,” Clary coughed a little as her eyes watered, “how can you guys drink this?”

“Once it burns away all of your taste buds, you’ll be fine.”

She took another sip and shuddered, before placing the glass next to her on the ledge, though she eyed it a little wearily. They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun set over the horizon and paint the world in orange and pink hues.

“So you know what’s going to happen,” Alec went first, turning the empty glass in his hands and watching the last rays of light reflect on the faceted surface, “when we go tonight. What I might have to end up doing.”

“I know,” Clary said, leaning back on the wall next to him and making their shoulders brush, “and I won’t hold it against you.”

“Really?” Alec raised an eyebrow and finally turned his head to look at her, for the first time since she joined him. “You’re okay with me killing your brother?”

Dieudonne’s black book revealed not only the possible location where Valentine was holding Max, but also who was keeping an eye on the boy. Sebastian Morgenstern, the Lord Regent’s own son. They had holed up in the semi-prestigious entertainment establishment called Pandemonium, hiding the kidnapped heir to the throne right in the middle of the city, where no one expected him to be.

“There is no love lost between me and Sebastian,” Clary said, picking her words carefully. She looked him straight in the eyes without even a slightest hint of hesitation. “My brother, he’s… he’s not a good person, Alec. Our relationship wasn’t like the one you had with your siblings. As far as I can remember, Sebastian was always cruel and spiteful. He never hurt me, for some reason, but I was always scared of him, scared of what he might do. As he got older that fear only grew. I watched him hurt others just for his own warped idea of fun. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone, not really. We’re all just there to serve his own ambitions.” Clary sighed shakily. “I won’t mourn him. Love and loyalty are earned, not forced, and Sebastian deserves nothing from me.”

They were both quiet for a moment after that confession, until Clary reached for her glass once more and drank the remaining whiskey in one gulp, flinching when she was done.

“Nope, didn’t get any better this time around. Feel free to steal some quality alcohol when you go to Pandemonium.”

“Sure, right between stealing Max away without anyone noticing,” Alec snorted. “I still can’t believe that Valentine is holding my little brother in a _whorehouse_.”

“Hey, at least it’s a fancy whorehouse,” Clary piped in cheerfully. “Does that help?”

 

* * *

 

The running on the rooftops was slowly becoming a routine. They didn’t have a problem with travelling unnoticed, not any more. The streets were nearly empty, most of the poorer districts decimated with the plague. The remaining survivors that still somehow lingered were hiding away from sight, afraid to go out even during daylight.

“Shit,” Jace muttered as they came to a stop on the edge of the roof. There was a canal separating them from their goal and the other bank was too far away to blink. The only bridge had a wall of light set up over it and a group of guards patrolling around.

“Look,” Alec pointed towards the far end of the street, where the entrance to the sewers could be seen, “we can get through there.”

It was easier said than done, unfortunately. While the sewers would take them where they needed to go, they were also filled with weepers. There were dozens of them and getting through took way too much time for Alec’s comfort.

Valentine was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. The Loyalists were perfectly aware that eliminating Dieudonne had painted a target on their backs. The Clave coup happened less than twenty-four hours ago, but Luke was convinced that Valentine would be moving Max to a safer location as soon as possible.

They had to get Max tonight, otherwise he might be lost to them forever.

Every minute wasted in the sewers was putting the entire mission at risk. Alec was torn between moving as quickly as he could and staying out of sight of the weepers. It would be easier, much easier, to cut their way through them, to fight through the infected and be done with it. But Alec found that unacceptable. The weepers were people, once. They still resembled them, shuffling around aimlessly and muttering nonsense to themselves. They probably tried hiding in the sewers before the fever overcame them to avoid being killed by the guard patrols, who were ruthless with dealing with plague victims. There was no coming back from the sickness, not when they were that far gone, but Alec still couldn’t do it. He was _not_ going to kill the citizens of Idris just because they were an inconvenience. So they stayed in the shadows, blinked from one hiding spot to another and climbed over the pipes hanging overhead, until they finally reached the exit of the sewers on the other side of the canal.

“Those poor bastards,” Jace sighed as they climbed onto the roof of the hotel right next to Pandemonium, “I wouldn’t want to live like this. You think there’s anything left of them, the real them, once they get that far?”

“I don’t know,” Alec answered as they reached their vantage point and crouched on the edge of the roof to scan the surroundings, “but maybe once we get Izzy back she’ll have an idea how to help them.”

“Don’t you think that her or others from the Royal Academy would have something by now? It’s been months since the plague hit us.”

“Maybe,” Alec hummed, “or maybe she’s just biding her time. We all know that if Valentine gets the cure he won’t need her anymore. He’ll kill her off, if only to get rid of another pretender to the throne.”

“Izzy doesn’t even want the throne,” Jace huffed, patting Alec’s arm to get his attention and pointing towards the guard gatehouse, where a small group of patrolmen were busy with a card game.

 _Neither do I_ , Alec thought bitterly, _but someone will have to do it if anything happens to Max._

It was a scary thought, one that filled his heart with panic, so Alec chose to focus on the mission instead.

The grounds around Pandemonium were heavily guarded, even more so than they expected. Valentine must have doubled the guards after they got rid of Dieudonne, which only confirmed Luke’s theory about Lord Regent moving Max to another hideout as soon as it was possible. Alec observed the patrols, trying to find some kind of pattern to their movements. Not all of the the guards were alert. Some played cards or merely observed the game, some looked like they managed to nap while standing upright. A couple of men were busy with the working girls that milled about, either flirting or negotiating a lower price.

“Ah, fuck,” Jace hissed suddenly, “on your left. We’ve got tallboys.”

Alec’s gaze shifted to the left side of the small courtyard before the Pandemonium gates and sure enough, he easily spotted two tallboys. Who came up with the name, Alec didn’t know, but it didn’t really reflect on the nature of those… things. Men strapped to metal and wire frames, with long, stilt-like legs. They were unnaturally tall, towering easily over others. Alec wasn’t sure, but he judged them to be at least ten feet high, if not more. The operators of those skeletal machines didn’t look quite right either. They were quiet and looked sickly, like death warmed over, gazing on the people below with clouded, fevered eyes. They looked drugged, or maybe brainwashed - Alec couldn’t really tell. But they were armed with longbows and pistols and their aim was spectacular. With their high vantage point, metal armor and endless supply of power in form of whale oil tanks strapped to their backs, they were the enemies that you _really_ didn’t want to mess with.

“Valentine is going all out,” Jace grimaced, “we need to hurry up.”

“There,” Alec said after a moment of studying the courtyard. He pointed towards the window on the second floor that was cracked open to let fresh air in. “There’s our entrance.”

It took a little bit of maneuvering and sneaking around but eventually they were both vaulting through the window without anyone noticing. The room they ended up with was empty, but they could hear voices and echoes of footsteps all around them. Alec focused, trying to call up this _dark vision_ , as Magnus called it. He concentrated, wishing himself to see the movement outside the walls and after some time he could feel the warmth and tingling sensation spreading from the Warlock’s mark. He raised his hand before his eyes and - feeling slightly self-conscious with Jace still looking - he waved it before his face.

The effect wasn’t immediate. It felt a little bit like being engulfed by the tidal wave, much like he remembered from his younger days and playing at the beach in the summer. It wasn’t a cold and freezing feeling of an ocean, though. It seemed more like a blanket of warmth wrapping over him and a mist settling over his eyes. The world lost its regular shapes and sharp angles, turning soft and smudged, as if everything was suddenly made out of grey fog. Alec could see silhouettes moving through the haze, bright orange and pulsing with heartbeats of the people he could now see. There was movement everywhere. He could see the girls entertaining the customers. The guards patrolling the corridors. The rats scampering through the kitchen below them, in search of food scraps.

Alec grabbed Jace’s arm when his brother moved to open the door and scout ahead. There was a guard coming around the corner of the corridor and he would undoubtedly see them. The effect washed away and disappeared after just a couple of seconds, his vision going back to normal. But even a short moment could give them an advantage.

It was more than enough and Alec would gladly take it.

 

* * *

 

They had been searching through room after room, looking for any signs of Max, or a clue to where he was kept. The rooms that were occupied were tricky, but they managed to either avoid fighting or rend the people occupying them unconscious.

Pandemonium was known through Idris for pandering to different tastes of its customers and for the secrecy of its staff. Alec heard the name often enough in court, but never felt compelled to see it himself, and neither did Jace.

The sight of it all made him sick.

The room they found deep inside the building. Both he and Jace went silent at the sight of electroshock machines, chains attached to the walls and array of knives and whips available. Alec might not be experienced when it came to sex, but he was not naive. He knew that some people found these kind of activities enjoyable and actively seeked them out, but there was something _wrong_ about this place. There was blood on the chains, far too much to be considered normal. The entire room reeked of misery and death.

Pandemonium was beautiful from the outside, with its plush furniture, velvet curtains and silk pillows on featherbed mattresses. But underneath all of that, under the layers of perfume and luxury, lay a rotten core. A fantasy for the rich, built on the pain and tears of others, the blood of the less fortunate.

And this was the place where Valentine was holding his little brother.

 

* * *

 

Everything went smoothly until they had to avoid two guards that came up from the staircase and surprised them. Alec pulled Jace into one of the rooms, closing the door quickly behind them.

The sound of creaking bedsprings caught their attention first, followed by a girl’s scream just a couple seconds later. The man who occupied the bed sprang out from it, naked as the day he was born and lunged for the sword propped against the wardrobe nearby. Jace managed to shoot him with a sleeping dart before he grabbed the weapon, while Alec blinked next to the bed and pressed his palm against the girl’s mouth, cutting off her scream.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Alec assured her calmly even as she struggled against him and with his free hand he helped her gather the bed sheet over her naked body. “Please don’t scream when I take my hand, we don’t want to put you to sleep too.”

She nodded, her eyes wild and wide but she didn’t make a sound when Alec let her go.

“We need to move,” Jace muttered from his spot by the door where he cracked it open and peeked outside, “I think someone heard her yell, there’s already some kind of commotion on the lower floor. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.”

“Okay, maybe through the window, I think there’s a balcony one floor up that we could reach--”

“You’re here for the boy, aren’t you?”

Alec turned around so quickly that vertigo almost overcame him. He looked at the girl, who stared at them with the same sort of fear in her eyes, but there was also something else in her expression, something determined and vengeful.

“What do you know?” Jace asked as he closed the door and came closer to them.

“There is a boy we’re not supposed to know about,” the girl said, “but we see him and sometimes hear him too. The madam, she’s keeping him close. There is a room next to her office that none of us are allowed to go in. Maybe he’s there.”

Jace turned to look at Alec, who stood still and unmoving, like a statue.

“Why?” Alec asked suddenly, his voice colored with suspicion. “What will you gain from helping us?”

The girl looked down at the naked and unconscious guard where he still was still sprawled on the floor in an undignified heap.

“The madam, she’s new,” she said quietly, “and she’s not good to us, not like the old one. She makes us do things, things that we don’t want to do. Things that hurt. She… she gives girls to special clients and sometimes they don’t come back. I’ve seen her dumping their bodies into the river.” She shivered and looked up back at them, her eyes were cold and empty now. “I don’t want to end up like that. Kill her, if you can.”

“We’re not killing anyone, I’m sorry.” Alec shook his head. “Not if we can help it.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Then take the boy and just go. The Lord Regent has _very_ short temper. With any luck, he’ll get so angry that she lost the boy that he’ll kill her himself.”

They could hear footsteps coming up the stairs and they knew they were almost out of time.

“We need to go, now,” Jace hissed, coming up to the window and opening it wide. Sure enough, there was a balcony one floor up that they could reach.

“Do you know if Sebastian Morgenstern is here tonight?” Alec asked the girl and saw her jaw working as she clenched her teeth.

“Yes,” she hissed, “he’s in the Silver room. It’s one of the _special_ ones.”

Alec thanked her and went to the window to follow Jace, who already blinked upwards onto the balcony.

“I’m going to give you a head start, but then I’m going to scream again,” she warned him and jerked her head toward the unconscious guard, “otherwise they will think I helped you.”

 

* * *

 

According to the blueprints that Luke showed them, the owner of Pandemonium had her office on the top floor, so they made their way up as quickly and silently as possible. They took out the guards in the corridor leading to the madam’s room and Alec summoned the dark vision briefly to see inside of it. Just on the very edge of his sight he could see an orange silhouette standing next to the window. It looked like the woman had her back to the door and it was probably the best chance they were going to get. They were able to slip in, and take her out with one well-aimed sleeping dart. Alec caught her as she fell to the floor, before the impact of her body made any unnecessary sound.

Jace stood guard by the door as Alec rummaged through the office. It was small but richly decorated. It had a desk, cluttered with stacks of various papers and a couple of bookshelves filled with thick ledgers.

It also had a narrow door on one side and Alec’s heart sped up at the sight of it. He willed his fingers to stay steady as he unhooked a keyring from the madam’s belt. It had only three keys on it and on his second try, the lock turned.

Max was sitting on a thick rug in the middle of the tiny room with boarded up windows, reading a book by the light of a couple of candles. He looked hardly changed from when Alec saw him last; he was, perhaps, a little thinner. He looked up when he heard the door creak open and then startled at the sight of the unfamiliar figure. Max stood up, his back ramrod straight and he did not back away, acting every inch the future emperor. Alec couldn’t help but think that Maryse would be proud, seeing her youngest unbroken by his captivity.

“Who are you?” Max asked and narrowed his eyes at him. “And why are you wearing that mask?”

Alec let go of the door handle that he had been gripping so hard that it made his fingers hurt, and reached for the straps that held his mask in place. Once he removed it he could see Max’s stern expression morphing into shock and then disbelief.

“ _Alec?_ ”

Alec’s fingers felt numb and the mask tumbled to the floor with a quiet clang, at the same time Max launched himself at him.

“Alec! It’s you!”

Alec fell to his knees just as Max reached him and he hugged his little brother with all his might. Max’s thin arms were around his neck and he felt solid and warm and _alive_ and Alec was fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. He hid his face in Max’s neck and just breathed in. There were so many things he wanted to say to Max, he had so much to explain. But that could come later, once they were safe. For now Alec just wanted to hold him for a minute and bask in the joy of finally having his little brother back.

“They-they told me you were--” Max struggled, close to tears, as he tried to find the right words. He still refused to let go of his death grip on Alec’s neck. “Head chopped off, in the prison. Dead. Like mother.”

“But I’m not,” Alec murmured into the boy’s ear and gently grabbed his shoulders to make him release his hold, “but now we need to go. We’re getting you out of here.”

“We?”

“You didn’t think I would miss this, did you?” Jace’s voice behind Alec’s back was clear and unmuffled, which meant he took of his mask as well. Max squealed and ran to hug him too, but Jace followed Alec’s lead and patted his younger brother on the back reassuringly before letting him go. “We need to go, buddy. We’re really short on time.”

“There is a secret exit on the ground floor,” Max said excitedly as Alec and Jace put their masks back on, “for special guests. They usually keep it closed but madam has the keys. I managed to steal them twice and almost got away but they caught me every time.”

“Oh yeah?” Jace said as he watched Alec switch to dark vision for a moment to see if he could spot any guards, “how did you manage to sneak away without anyone seeing you?”

“I might have set the curtains on fire,” Max grinned, “completely by accident, of course.”

 

* * *

 

Their luck had to run out sooner or later.

The corridors were swarming with guards, panicked guests and working girls. Alec guessed that someone had probably found the unconscious brothel owner and raised alarm. The exit was so close, Alec could see it at the end of the corridor, but there were men crowding the narrow space. They had no way of going through unnoticed.

“Wait here.” Alec yanked open a cover of a ventilation shaft that ended an inch or so above the floor. He ushered Max to crawl inside. “We’re going to take care of the guards and come back for you.”

“But--”

“That’s not up for discussion,” Jace said as he propped the cover back against the wall, “stay here. And don’t make a sound.”

In the end, it was the element of surprise that got them the advantage. The men guarding the exit didn’t expect two masked opponents to appear before them out of thin air. The fight was quick, but brutal. Those who couldn’t be subdued by sleeping darts or gas ended up with their heads smashed against the walls, knocking them out just as quick. He couldn’t really see Jace while he was focused on his fight, but he could feel him at his back, could feel the shared thrill of battle. It was almost as if their hearts were beating as one while they were in combat, exactly like Magnus promised.

“Come on,” Alec said as he pulled open the vent cover and Max crawled out. Both he and Jace were panting hard after the fight and Alec had a shallow cut on his arm, visible through the tear in his coat.

“Wait,” Jace grabbed Alec’s uninjured arm as they moved towards the exit.

“What?” Alec hissed, turning towards Jace.

Jace pointed at the signs on the wall next to them. They were used to point out different sections of the building, to make it easier for the guests to move around. One of the small arrow-shaped tags had _‘Silver room’_ written on it in elegant cursive.

Alec felt his blood turn to ice in his veins.

“He’s there,” Jace hissed, “the bastard is right there and we’re so close, Alec, we can’t let him go.”

“Jace…”

“We _can’t_. We have a chance to take Valentine’s son out, the same man who held Max captive here for Void knows how long. We need to do this.”

Alec looked away for a moment towards the exit, so tantalizingly close and yet it seemed as if it was miles away. It was all that separated Max from freedom, just a couple of steps he couldn’t take.

Because Jace was right. They couldn’t afford to leave Sebastian alone.

“We’re going to split up,” Jace said and raised a hand to stall the protest that he knew was coming, “we can’t risk Max falling into their hands again. He’s the priority here.”

“You’re right,” Alec sighed, “take him and go. Alaric should be waiting by the north side of the canal, as we agreed. Get Max there. I’m going after Sebastian.”

“No!” Max cried out, his small hands wrapping themselves around Alec’s wrist. “I just got you guys back! We need to stick together!”

“No,” Jace said quietly and there was something in his voice that made Alec pause, “you should be the one to stay with Max. Not only are you better equipped to protect him, you’re also a Lightwood.” Jace chuckled but the sound was entirely humorless, “I’m not from the royal family. We can’t risk _two_ future Emperors.”

“Jace, shut up,” Alec hissed, “you know we never cared about that.”

“I know,  but that’s the truth. Of the two of us, I’m the one who is expendable. And… I also might know a way to take Sebastian out without killing him, unlike you.”

Now _that_ made Alec pause.

“What?”

“Do you trust me, Alec?” Jace placed a hand on the taller man’s shoulder and the weight of it was strangely comforting, a little point of contact that warmed Alec’s very soul.

“You know I do, you idiot. With my life.”

“Then trust me on this, please,” Jace said, “I know what I’m doing. Just get Alaric’s boat to the western canals instead and I’ll meet you there. And if I’m not back in an hour... just go to Jade Wolf. Get Max out of here.”

“Be careful,” Alec whispered as he pulled Jace in for a quick but fierce hug, “because I swear, if you die on me, I’m going to get Magnus to find your soul in the Void just so that I can kick your ass.”

Jace laughed quietly and returned the embrace before leaning down to hug his little brother as well. A moment later he was gone, running back the way they came, heading towards the Silver room and towards Sebastian.

Alec swallowed as he watched him go, his throat tight and dry. He quickly shook the feeling of dread away, focusing on the task of getting Max out.

The air outside was chilly and a little damp. Alec stood hidden behind a stone column, Max plastered to his side and trying to stay as still as possible. There were people patrolling the courtyard; too many for Alec to take out alone while trying to keep Max out of harm’s way. Alec cursed, looking around for a solution and then finally saw a narrow balcony one floor up, from which he could probably reach the wall that ran around the perimeter of Pandemonium.

“Hey,” Alec whispered, crouching down to be on Max’s eye level, “I’m going to show you something really cool, but you need to promise me you’ll be very quiet, okay? I know how we can escape, but the guards will notice us if you make any sound.”

“I’m not a little kid,” Max narrowed his eyes at Alec, “I can be quiet.”

“Good. Now, come on.”

Alec ignored Max’s look of surprise as he grabbed the boy under his armpits and held him up. Max wrapped his arms around Alec’s neck and for a moment Alec had a flashback to the happier, more carefree days. Days when Max was little and Alec used to give him piggyback rides. Max was too big now to be carried around, Alec knew, but he was so very light. Too light, probably, due to months of captivity.

“Don’t let go,” Alec whispered, holding Max a little tighter.

He focused on the balcony, felt the warmth spreading up his arm from the mark on his hand and blinked up.

 

* * *

 

Alec was busy watching Max chatter away at Alaric - who looked slightly baffled at the speed the little Lightwood could talk - when he felt it for the first time. The sudden sharp pain in his side that made him double over, a cry of surprise tearing itself from his lips. He could hear Alaric’s alarmed voice, could feel Max’s small hands grabbing him by the shoulders, but he couldn’t get up, couldn’t tell them that he was okay. His left side burned, like someone had ran him through with a white-hot knife. The unrelenting throbbing of agony that made him grit his teeth and almost bite at his tongue.

Alec untucked his shirt quickly and sure enough, the parabatai rune above his left hip exploded with a stinging ache at the slightest touch, a phantom pain that spread through his entire body in waves. Alec knew then that something was wrong with Jace. The rune had resonated with his brother’s pain before, when he got hurt during their training at Jade Wolf, but those were small, irrelevant hurts that never lasted more than a second or two.

This, though… This felt like Jace was dying.

Alec felt cold sweat on his body and at the same time it seemed like fire was eating him from the inside. Fear blossomed in his chest, some kind of primal panic for his brother’s life. He couldn’t lose Jace, not now, not when he just got him back and when their lives were slowly coming back together… Alec’s heart filled with dread, he knew that if Jace died, a part of him would die as well.

He had been staring at the bottom of the boat for Void knows how long and when he finally looked up, it was to the sight of Max and Alaric’s frightened faces. Alec wanted - no, _needed to_ \- go after Jace, to make sure he was alright. But he couldn’t just leave Max alone and unprotected and it was killing him inside, this no-win scenario he was stuck in.

This was all his fault. It was _always_ his fault. He wasn’t good enough to stop the assassins from killing his mother, not good enough to escape the prison on his own or rescue his little brother. And now Jace’s blood was on his hands. Why in the world did he agree to Jace going after Sebastian instead of doing it himself?

Stupid, he had been so stupid… Alec swallowed back the pained sob that threatened to escape his lips. _He_ should be the one dying in that brothel, not Jace. Jace had someone waiting for him, Clary who really cared about him. But Alec… Alec was alone. Yet, for some unfathomable reason his thoughts drifted towards Magnus, thinking about how disappointed he was going to be. Alec was supposed to be able to do this, to use the mark given to him and save his family, but here he was, fucking everything up.

There was a sudden _thump_ on the bridge they were anchored under. Alec clenched his teeth so hard they hurt, but he forced himself to straighten up, uncurl from his pathetic impression of a wounded animal. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by his grief and his own failures, not while Max was still in danger. Alec was almost sure now that he had already lost one brother today - he was _not_ going to lose another.

Before he had a chance to investigate the noise, a figure stumbled out of the shadows and fell down on the ground on the bank of the canal.

“Jace,” Max’s shocked whisper was enough for Alec to shake off his stupor. He blinked to the shore before he could even think about what he was doing.

Jace was in bad shape. The front of his black clothing was even darker, stained with blood. He laid immobile and so deathly still. Alec couldn’t see his face yet, not with the mask on, but his chest was rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. He was still alive.

Alec picked his brother up, not the easiest task even if Jace was shorter than him, and blinked back onto the boat. Alaric quickly went to start the engine and after a few moments they were on their way back towards the Jade Wolf. Alec propped Jace carefully on the side of the boat and took off his mask. Jace’s eyes fluttered open and he blinked dazedly a couple of times, before he focused on his siblings.

“I thought you died,” Alec whispered, clenching his fists on the lapels of Jace’s coat. He could feel the sticky blood saturating the fabric. There was so much of it and it seemed like half of it might not even be Jace’s. “I felt your pain and I thought you died.”

“Nah,” Jace ground out, wincing a little as he tried to move. Alec looked down, now that the initial panic was wearing off and he saw a deep, sluggishly bleeding cut on Jace’s stomach. “Bastard got lucky there for a moment but I don’t think he hit anything vital. It just bleeds like a bitch.”

Jace was playing down his injuries for Max’s sake, Alec was sure of that. The cut looked serious and the blood flow was not stopping. Jace was pale and shaking, though he seemed to be unaware of it. His eyes were clouded over with pain that he tried to mask with false bravado and cockiness.

“Here,” Alec uncorked a vial of the health elixir and handed it to Jace, “this should help before we get you to Catarina.”

Jace was trembling and the vial threatened to spill over his fingers but Max was next to him and he wrapped his smaller hands around Jace’s, taking the medicine from him.

“Let me,” Max said and tilted the glass carefully to Jace’s lips.

“Thanks, buddy,” Jace whispered as Max tossed the empty vial aside, “I owe you one.”

“Don’t you fucking dare to do this to me ever again,” Alec hissed as he forced himself to release Jace’s coat, otherwise he was sure he was going to shake Jace until his teeth rattled, “I told you not to get yourself killed. I thought you were gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Jace murmured and reached up to pat Alec’s hand reassuringly. His eyes were drooping, now that adrenaline was wearing off and the painkilling properties of the elixir were kicking in. Alec just nodded, sitting down next to him and wrapping an arm around Max when the boy curled up on his other side.

They sat in silence for awhile, just feeling the gentle rocking of the boat as it made its way upstream towards the promise of a safe harbor. The light grew stronger as the dawn came, the first rays reflecting off the water and gilding the waves with gold. Max’s body grew heavy with sleep, exhausted from all the excitement. Alec was pretty sure Jace had fallen asleep too, until he heard him shuffle a little and groan with pain once more.

“What about Sebastian?” Alec asked, even though it was the last thing he wanted to talk about right then. He just had to know.

“What about him?” Jace shifted a little to get more comfortable. He was avoiding looking directly at Alec.

“Did you kill him?”

“No,” Jace said after a moment of silence and when he finally looked Alec in the eyes, his gaze was clear and determined, “I took care of him, just like I said I would. He’s not dead, but he’s never coming back. Just… just trust me on this, Alec. Okay?”

Alec’s jaw clenched as he bit back more questions.

He knew that Jace was not telling him everything. He was sure that some of the blood on his clothes was Sebastian’s. There were things that Jace was hiding from him. But maybe, just maybe, not knowing was actually a blessing. One less thing to weigh him down, one less responsibility on his shoulders.

All he wanted to do now was to get his brothers back to safety and then sleep and forget about the world, if only for a couple of hours.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry to anyone who waited for so long for this update. I really have no other excuse than blame it on the real life and the limited time I have to write D:
> 
> Have some Malec as my way of saying 'sorry'?
> 
> Working on chapter six right now. Unless the plot gets away from me (which often happens with my fics) I believe this story will have nine chapters total, plus a short epilogue.

__

> _[Excerpt from the diary of a known downworlder, seized before his execution]_
> 
> _For most, the High Warlock is nothing but a child's tale meant to instill fear of that beyond the family, the community._
> 
> _When I was young, my mother and I were on the run, moving from one village or sea town to the next. Camping in the woods for weeks, always with the cursed Clave at our backs._
> 
> _At night she told me of her dreams. Of the empty, black place where the Warlock whispered to her. With each visit, her craft grew, until she could see through the eyes of moths, and unlock a door or window latch from outside a house._
> 
> _I will find this empty place. Somehow the key to open the Void will fall into my hands. In time, I will learn the secret and He will call to me, as He called to her._
> 
> _Call me a demon for my studies. Drag me to your cold stone cell, whip my flesh and put me on trial. Burn my body to ash._
> 
> _But I will continue to seek the realm of which my mother spoke. It is my life's meaning._
> 
>   ** _\--- The Clave’s notes on the nature of the High Warlock_**

With a heavy sigh Alec closed the book, his fingers tapping a couple of times on the front cover. It was dry reading at best, and fanatical raving at worst. He had read through the Clave’s books before, many times even - as it was required of him - but now instead of familiar comfort it brought him only doubt and more questions.

Alec winced at the sharp crick in his neck when he tried to move too fast and placed the book on the table next to the armchair he sat in. He sighed and turned his eyes towards the bed, where his brothers slept.

Jace had fallen asleep as soon as they had gotten him into bed and Catarina unleashed her healing magic on him. The wound he received was deep and could be lethal if left untreated. Cat had put Jace into a deep, restorative sleep to help him heal. She said that he would live, but he wouldn’t be up for any more late night excursions for some time. Which was okay with Alec - if he had his way Jace would never be put in such a dangerous situation _ever_ again.

Max was curled up on the bed next to Jace, head resting on his shoulder. He looked so small next to Jace and Alec had to restrain himself from reaching out every couple of minutes and just to make sure that he was real. That he was _here._ He still couldn’t believe that they managed to pull it off and that Max was whole and unharmed. It felt like the tight bands of misery and self-loathing around his heart relented their hold a little, giving him a momentary respite.

But the hour was late and Alec needed to get rest as well. He refused to go to sleep until he made sure that his siblings were okay, but now he could feel fatigue creeping up on him. He stood up quietly from his armchair and gently, so very gently, scooped Max up into his arms and left Jace’s room. He quickly made his way into his own quarters and then through the window and up onto the wooden bridge leading to Max’s new room in the watch tower. The boy didn’t stir at all the entire way, too exhausted with stress and excitement of the day. Alec wasn’t really surprised; he himself felt just about ready to fall over.

He didn’t bother with undressing Max for bed - he figured sleeping in clothes for once was not going to kill him. He only slipped off Max’s shoes after he laid him down and then covered him with a soft blanket that someone had provided for their little emperor.

Alec sat down at the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb his brother. There was no light in the room apart from what the moon provided, but it was enough. Alec could see the dark circles underneath Max’s eyes and the gauntness of his cheeks that should have still been round with a bit of baby fat. But even with all of that, Max had stood his ground back at the Pandemonium when he didn’t know yet that it was Alec hiding behind the mask. He hadn’t made a single sound of distress when they blinked all over the rooftops and evaded the guards. He had helped Jace drink the elixir on the boat when his hands shook too much to hold the vial.

His baby brother must have been scared out of his wits but he wasn’t showing it, acting like the future leader of Idris should.

“I’m so proud of you, Max. And mom and dad would have been too,” Alec whispered as he reached out to gently stroke the boy’s hair, reminding himself that it was real, that _Max_ was real.

Alec had managed to save him.

 

* * *

 

“The wound is festering,” Catarina said as she washed her hands clean of blood in the basin provided just for that purpose. “The blade that cut him must have been covered in poison of some kind.”

Alec closed his eyes for a second, praying silently for strength. Jace was still out of it, resting on his bed with freshly changed bandages wrapped around his stomach.

“But you can help him?”

“Please,” she scoffed, “who do you think I am? I can fix your brother, but it’s going to take a while before he’s up for running on the rooftops like a cat in heat.”

Alec snorted and was about to say something else when Clary entered the room. She seemed to startle a little bit at the sight of the two of them but quickly regained her composure.

“How is he doing?” Clary asked as she crossed the room to Jace’s bed and sat down on the edge of it. Her hand seemed to automatically reach towards Jace’s as she took hold of it.

“Healing,” Cat answered shortly. “And he will continue to do so as long as he doesn’t do something idiotic and make it worse. So I trust you two can keep him from undoing all my hard work.”

“We will,” Clary promised.

Alec wasn’t exactly sure they could succeed in stopping Jace from doing something he really wanted to do, but Alec wasn’t above tying his brother to the bed to make sure he stayed put.

“Have you had a chance to look at Max?” Alec asked just as Cat was leaving the room.

At first Cat looked irritated about being stalled even more but when she saw Alec’s anxious face, her own eyes softened noticeably.

“The little emperor is fine,” she said, “a little on the thin side and I will talk to the cooks and recommend a richer diet for him, but otherwise he’s perfectly healthy.”

“Thank you.”

Cat only nodded and left the room without word. Alec fussed around Jace for a little while longer before leaving him in Clary’s care. He found Max down at the restaurant, eating something that looked suspiciously like chocolate pudding. Alec wasn’t even aware they had anything like that left in the kitchens, but then again, they might be saving the really good food for Max.

Alec stood in the restaurant doorway for a little while, observing Max talking to Hodge, Max’s newly appointed tutor. Alec didn’t really know the man that well. He saw him only in passing while attending court, but Luke said that Hodge had trained with Jace in the military. The man apparently had extensive knowledge about politics, diplomacy and court etiquette, being from an old - if somewhat impoverished - noble family. He would teach Max the bare necessities he would need to know when he regained the throne. Not only that, he was also an excellent fighter and could serve as Max’s bodyguard when Alec wasn’t there. At first Alec thought that someone with such wide skillset surely didn’t want to be stuck babysitting, but Luke assured him that Hodge didn’t mind and was actually used to working with children.

Alec observed them for a little while, his heart warming at the sight of his little brother chattering away at his tutor, clearly comfortable with the man already. Hopefully the two of them could work together to cram as much knowledge into Max’s head as they could before they overthrew Valentine.

Hodge looked up from the thick book they were reading from on the table and he caught Alec’s eyes. The older man gave Alec a polite nod, which Alec returned before leaving the restaurant for the rooms upstairs. He needed to find Luke so they could start figuring out their next step.

 

* * *

 

Alec had been pondering over building plans for quite some time now, but just couldn’t see a way in. His hands pulled at his hair in frustration, making it stick out in several different directions, as irritation churned in his gut.

Alec knew the layout of Idris Castle and the surrounding gardens like the back of his hand; not only was it his childhood home, as Lord Protector he had to be aware of every single nook and cranny a possible assassin could hide in. Not that it mattered, in the end, since the killers who took his mother’s life defied all known laws of nature and reached their target anyways. Alec had planned for all possible assassination scenarios, but he had not taken magic users into consideration, not with the nation-wide stigma against it. It was a mistake he was not going to repeat when they took the throne back for Max.

But the only part of the castle he was not intimately familiar with was the Tower. It stood on castle grounds but it was a separate building, with its own entrance and defences, and Alec had been there only a handful of times. The Tower was the workplace of the natural philosophers and the seat of the Royal Academy of Science, and if there was one thing you could say about scientists, it was that they were notoriously secretive about their research. Izzy had spent most of her days in there, conducting experiments, performing autopsies and who knew what else. Alec had never felt the need to go inside, to walk among the stories-high shelves filled with potions, ingredients and glass jars filled with organs and various body parts. Although he had appreciated that the experiments were needed to advance their skill in medicine - something that he was immensely grateful for now, when they had Izzy’s elixir to circumvent the plague, even if only for a little while.

But the fact that he didn’t really know the layout of the Tower personally was his disadvantage right now. There was only so much that he could learn from building plans. Plans could be changed. The rooms could be connected differently by now, the exits and entrances in different places. There was no way to tell what kind of new defences Valentine could have installed inside. Were the corridors wide enough to put up walls of light in them? Was there a large enough space in the Tower to safely gather a whale oil tank that tallboys could use?

He would be going in blind. It was infuriating and Alec was one second away from screaming in frustration.

“You look like you could use a break.”

Alec looked up at Magnus, who was now sitting in a chair on the other side of the table. The Warlock was observing him, his golden eyes filled with concern.

“Wait,” Alec said hesitantly, “how come you are here? I thought you couldn’t cross freely between here and the Void?”

Magnus raised one elegant eyebrow at him, his expression shifting into a mix of exasperation and amusement. Almost like a parent who was waiting for their child to figure out a simple arithmancy problem on their own.

“Oh,” Alec said, feeling a little foolish for not realizing it sooner, “you’re not really here. I’m dreaming, aren't I?”

Magnus smiled at him then, as if he was silently telling him ‘ _well done_ ’ and stood up from his seat. Alec couldn’t help but to admire the way he moved, all grace and balance that bordered on being ethereal.

Though, to be fair, the High Warlock wasn’t exactly real, seeing as Alec saw him only in his dreams.

“Walk with me, darling,” Magnus said and moved towards the door, but when Alec turned around after him, there was no door. The loyalists’ meeting room floor faded away into a wide stretch of snow-white sand. The shift was gradual, the worn bookcases that lined the walls becoming half-buried in the sand, until finally disappearing altogether.

They walked in silence for a while and Alec felt a bizarre sense of tranquility. It was becoming a familiar feeling by now, the peace and quiet of the Void. Their current surroundings were new, though, something he had not seen before.

“I don't know this place,” Alec said. “I thought that everything in the Void was supposed to be a representation of my own mind?”

The white expanse of sand, a massive beach stretching out over the horizon, for as far as Alec could see. The ocean crashing into the shore, the water black as ink, with white fringes of foam adorning the waves. The night sky above them were filled with stars, but the constellations were unfamiliar - a mystery that he had no way of figuring out.

“That would be because this is _my_ memory, not yours,” Magnus explained. “The shores of Pandyssia. How it used to look, long time ago.”

Pandyssia. The forbidden continent on the edge of the world, where no sailors ever returned from. The details of which came from an ancient journals of explorers of old. The tales that were passed around for so long that it was uncertain how much of them were true and how much were imagined by the storytellers. And if Magnus was telling the truth, Alec was the first person in centuries to witness its splendor. It was a dizzying thought, that sudden realization that Magnus was sharing with him something so special and private.

They continued down the beach, climbing the highest of the dunes, the white grains of sand shifting like rivers when they disturbed them. Magnus waved a hand once they reached the top and the sand rose up, moved and swirled, forming different shapes, until they turned into polished rocks, almost unnaturally smooth.

“You are troubled,” Magnus sat down on one of the rocks and after a moments hesitation Alec took a seat on the other one. “A burden shared is a burden halved.”

“It’s just…” Alec looked up, focusing on the stars above them, seemingly blinking in and out of existence. Some of the stars were falling, leaving white trails of light behind them, only to fade away the next second. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to do this. Help Izzy, I mean.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I don't know the Tower, where Valentine is keeping her, and there doesn’t seem to be a good way to approach it.”

Alec turned his gaze back to Magnus, who only waved his hand, indicating that Alec should continue.

“The sewer system underneath has iron gates that you can’t get through, and blowing them up would make too much noise. There’s only one main entrance and no back doors. The first windows are placed too high for me to reach.” Alec ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even more. “Luke has his spies watching the place and Valentine has tripled the amount of guards on the ground. He’s not a fool, he knows we’ll come after Izzy, now that we managed to get Max back. We have no idea how many guards he has inside, or how many security measures he has installed in there during the last six months. And to make matters worse, I’ll be doing it alone since Jace is still in no shape to go with me.” Alec grimaced. “It’s a mess and I don’t know what to do.”

Magnus seemed to ponder all of this for a moment, one of his long fingers tapping against his lips as he thought.

“And your sister is being held on the top floor, is she not?”

“That’s where she used to have her lab, before, so it’s likely still the case.”

“So…” Magnus stood up from his rock and circled around Alec, making the younger man turn his head, trying to follow his movement. “You can’t go from below. You can’t go from the front or the back. When you eliminate the impossible, there’s only one solution left.”

“Enlighten me, then,” Alec sighed. “What am I missing?”

“Why, darling, you need to go in from above.”

Alec gaped at him for a moment, unable to form words. Finally, he shook his head and looked towards the restless ocean, observing the wanes and how they came and went, washing endlessly over the sand.

“Is this the part where you are going to give me wings?”

Magnus laughed at that and the sound made something ease in Alec’s chest, some kind of phantom pain he had not even realized existed until now.

“Hardly,” he chuckled. “Are wings your only option of reaching the highest floor of the Tower?”

Alec thought about the building plans, about the sketches and the maps of the floors.

“The only other way is the building next to the Tower. I think it won’t have as many guards, but it is impossible to go between them. Even with the powers you gave me, it’s just too far away to jump.”

With his gaze still stuck on the rolling waves, Alec heard, more than saw, Magnus circling around him and coming to stop behind Alec.

“Is it?”

Alec had a second to wonder what exactly Magnus had meant by that, before he felt the Warlock’s hand at the back of his neck. Strong fingers brushed against his skin, making Alec shiver at the light touch.

“Magnus?” Alec asked, suddenly unsure.

“Shhh.”

Alec didn’t dare to breathe when Magnus’ hands reached over his shoulders from behind, deft fingers quickly undoing various buckles and buttons that held his jacket and shirt together. Soon enough he was left half-naked, the open shirt pooling around his waist and elbows, his vulnerable back bared before the Warlock.

Those mesmerizing hands shifted down his back then, slowly, between his shoulder blades and over his spine. Over his ribs, rapidly moving as Alec took shaky breaths. Magnus’ touch was electric, like always, and Alec thought he could get used to it, addicted to it even, since no one in his life had ever touched him like that.

Alec could feel the now familiar heat and tingling of his skin when Magnus placed one of his hands over the small of his back, the warmth filling him from that single point of contact. Magnus’ other hand rested over his right shoulder blade, fingers splayed wide, as if Magnus tried to touch as much of him as it was possible.

“New runes?” Alec whispered, a little afraid of breaking Magnus’ concentration. Magnus let out a small noise of confirmation. “What do they do?”

“I think I’ll let you figure that out on your own,” Magnus said and Alec could hear amusement in his voice. “That should make things a little more interesting, don’t you think?”

The heat of new runes forming on his skin faded away after few moments, but Magnus’ hands still lingered. Those clever fingers brushed up his spine and shoulders, to finally rest over his collarbones, thumbs stroking slowly over the fragile bones.

“Why do you keep helping me?” Alec asked and almost immediately wished he could take back those words. He didn’t mean to sound ungrateful; it was thanks to Magnus’ assistance that he managed to steal Max away from Valentine’s grasp. Magnus gave him a fighting chance. He gave him something he had lost during his months of captivity and torture.

He gave him hope.

Magnus’ hands left him, and Alec had to physically stop himself from asking him to come back. The Warlock circled around him and reached up to grasp Alec’s chin, their eyes connecting. Alec was unable to look away from the vibrant gold that saw deep into his soul, mesmerized like he was under a wordless spell.

“Your choices fascinate me,” Magnus whispered, eyes narrowing slightly, as if Alec was a puzzle he could not figure out. “You spared the life of Clave’s Inquisitor. You stood against those who had tortured you and yet you have not taken their lives, as would have been your right. I’m older than the sand we stand on right now and even I didn’t see that coming.”

“It’s _not_ my right,” Alec protested, “I’m not going to lower myself to their level. I’m not killing anyone, not if I can help it.”

“But you want to.”

“Yes,” Alec said, thinking back to those long, lonely months spent in darkness, with only rats for company. Those days were filled with pain and misery and despair, with his own self-loathing for his failure to protect his mother, and with Valentine’s taunts and mind games. “For everything they have done. But I won’t. I can’t. Because I fear that once I go down that road, there is no going back.”

“I wonder if you’ll be able to stay true to your convictions in the days to come.” Magnus shook his head. “But that remains to be seen.”

Magnus moved his fingers, his ringed thumb brushing lightly over Alec’s lower lip, making the young man gasp and open his mouth slightly. Alec could see Magnus’ eyes darting down and he looked tempted, like he thought he could slip his finger in further, rest it against Alec’s tongue. But he didn’t.

Alec was pretty sure he would have let him. Welcomed it, even.

“For the longest time, I thought I had seen everything. That no one could surprise me anymore. The world has become such a dull place.” Magnus released Alec’s chin and Alec found himself leaning into his touch, following it without a thought.

“And then you came along,” Magnus continued, his voice barely more than a whisper but Alec honed in on every word nevertheless. “You came and defied every expectation I had of you. Suddenly I had a reason to take interest again, to care about what was happening.”

Magnus smiled and Alec’s breath caught at the beauty of it, at the way the corner of his mouth tilted gently, as if Magnus tried to fight that smile and failed miserably.

“You’ve unlocked something in me, Alexander. And that, perhaps, is the most surprising thing of all.”

Alec just kept looking at Magnus, not sure if he trusted himself to speak. How did one reply when a god said such things to you?

“I…” Alec hesitated. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

Magnus chuckled and his eyes shone with mirth and amusement. He placed one hand over Alec’s sternum, feeling the beat of his heart.

“I know you won’t.”

Magnus pushed against his chest then, strong enough to make him topple backwards from his seat on the rock. But instead of falling onto the white sand, Alec found himself submerged in dark nothingness, closing over his head like black waves of the foreign ocean he had just visited.

When Alec came back to his senses he was in the meeting room, his head resting on his folded arms. He must have fallen asleep while browsing the building plans of the Tower. His back still resonated with the phantom heat of the new runes that had been placed on his skin. It was up to him to figure out exactly what they did.

After all, he did not want to disappoint Magnus.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember what I told you guys the last time, about this story being 9 chapters long? Scratch that. I am done predicting how long the story will be before I finish it. Originally I wanted this part to be longer, but then decided that it would be a mammoth of a chapter and I needed to split it in two.
> 
> Not a lot of Malec in this one, sorry, but that was necessary. Lots of action. Very Alec-centric.

__

_ _

_“Attention, citizens of Idris. This is a public warning. The assassin, Alexander Lightwood, responsible for the murder of our Empress and disappearance of Lord Maxwell, heir to the throne, has temporarily escaped state custody. Any information about his whereabouts must be delivered to the City Watch at once. Any person with information that leads to the discovery of Lord Maxwell Lightwood will be granted a substantial reward.”_

Alec scoffed when the city-wide announcements rang through the air again. Back when his family was in power, the loudspeaker system was used only in case of emergencies, or during important events, like visits from foreign dignitaries or the celebration of the year’s end. These days, it seemed they were used mostly to spread propaganda and Valentine’s lies, sowing fear among the citizens, promoting treachery and backstabbing.

Alec huddled closer to the wall and shot a worried look up at the heavily overcast sky. Despite the early morning hours the clouds were dark and heavy with rain that could fall any minute now. The stormy weather could prove useful, since he could use the additional darkness to his advantage, but he really hoped it wouldn’t rain; Travelling over the rooftops was tricky when the tiles and bricks were slippery.

The chilly morning air was seeping through the layers of cloth and leather he had on. The clothes provided to him by the loyalists were comfortable and well-made - and even waterproof, to a degree - but it seemed that no matter the weather, he was always cold. He suspected that it might have something to do with his imprisonment. Ever since then he could not get warm, it was like the chill from the cells had settled deep down into his bones and refused to let him go.

Although, that wasn’t _entirely_ true. There were moments where the cold seemed to finally release its hold on him. When he was in the Void, those long agonizing months of captivity, slipped away. That place took away all the sensation, cold and warmth alike, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he wasn’t hounded by his own memories.

Alec looked through the broken window down to the street below. The ruined building he had been waiting in was a safety hazard but it was the best vantage point he could have for the moment. It provided him with the view of the bridge that was the shortest way across the districts, the quickest route to the Tower.

His fingers found one of the bone charms attached to his belt. Alec was pretty sure that it would be yet further proof of his damnation in the eyes of the Clave, if they ever caught him. First the High Warlock’s mark, then the runes on his body and now these little charms. But the advantages they brought outweighed the risks. Luke had shown him how to make them, how to whittle down fragments of whale bone and how to mount them onto pieces of metal. How to etch them with runes that gave them power. It was a banned practice now, Luke had said, but there was a time when every sailor carried those charms with them, as they brought luck and other fortunes. It all depended on the intention of those who created them and ever since Alec made his own three charms, he could see their influence. How sometimes a guard would look the other way, giving him more time to hide. Or how at times his arrows seemed to fly faster, hit their target from a greater distance.

Alec ran his thumb over the polished bone, sanded down and smoothed to perfection. He would need all the luck he could get today.

It was time to get Izzy back.

 

* * *

 

The fastest way to cross the bridge would be to walk on the very top of it, across the steel beams and arches and Alec did exactly that. The rush of the river helped to mask his footsteps as he went, high above the heads of unsuspecting guards patrolling the bridge below. Alec almost wanted to laugh. If he was in Valentine’s place, he would have taken this whole situation more seriously. After all, Alec had managed to escape the prison, take out the Inquisitor and then steal his brother away right from under Valentine’s nose. It was obvious by now that Alec had some way of entering places that were heavily guarded. If he were in Valentine’s shoes, Alec would have instructed the guards to be more vigilant, to look for less obvious routes that an escaped convict could use.

Like the top of the bridge, for instance.

But it didn’t really surprise him that Valentine’s empire was fraying at the edges. He had no way of inspiring true loyalty, had nothing to show for the months of his rule, only the declining state of the country. He had not stopped the rampaging sickness, nor had he found the _supposedly_ missing Max. His own people didn’t listen to him and he had stretched himself thin trying to keep his dominion over everything and everyone, while the control of the nation slowly slipped through his fingers.

During the next half an hour Alec made good progress at crossing the districts, running over the rooftops where he could and sneaking through the streets when he had no other choice. There seemed to be more guards out and about, not that it was particularly surprising, given the increasingly anxious atmosphere in the city. There still was no cure for the plague and the sickness seemed to spread faster than ever. Idris was cut off from foreign supplies, the neighbouring nations blocking trade in an attempt to starve them out. It was almost working. People were getting desperate. And desperation was dangerous.

Alec blinked down to a run-down alley between an old pub and a ransacked jeweler’s shop, since it was the only possible route he could take to avoid a checkpoint with a wall of light. The alley was empty. The shops were closed and the houses had boarded up doors and windows, most of them marked with a red ‘x’ that the city watch painted on residences festering with the plague. The abandoned butcher’s shop had a broken display window and when Alec looked inside, through the darkness, he could see corpses stacked in a pile near one of the walls, covered with a stained sheet.

And then he heard the noise.

A cacophony of scratching and squeaking, appearing almost out of nowhere and increasing in volume as dozens of rats flowed out of one of the empty buildings. The sound made the hair on the back of Alec’s neck stand up, hundred of nails scraping against the cobblestones, almost drowning out everything else. The swarm was a mass of dirty fur and writhing tails, small bodies with open sores and sharp teeth and crazed eyes.

Plague rats.

Alec cursed and then looked frantically at the surrounding buildings. He couldn’t run out of the alley, not unless he wanted to stumble right into a patrol on the main street. He couldn’t go up either. It was easy to blink _down_ from a building - he could always lessen the impact of a drop with a neatly executed roll - but blinking _up_ was far more problematic and unpredictable if the buildings were too high. Alec quickly blinked up onto a narrow store awning, and the rats stalked the street below, as if waiting for him to slip, so that they could devour him alive.

Alec briefly entertained the idea of simply running to the end of the street. He was faster than the swarm, but if the rats followed him, he could lead them to innocent bystanders. Alec quickly weighed his options and finally reached for one of the gadgets that he had attached to his belt, courtesy of Simon. The vampire had invented many small contraptions that would make his missions easier, though Alec only picked the non-lethal ones out of the presented variety, like chokedust bombs or stun mines. But Simon insisted that Alec pick at least _one_ lethal gadget just to make sure he had the option should he really needed it. Alec resisted at first, but eventually caved in. He was glad, now, that he did.

He unattached one spring razor from his belt and armed it, winding the clockwork mechanism tightly, just like Simon had showed him. And then he dropped it into the swarm below him. The effect was immediate. The writhing bodies of the rats triggered the mine and it exploded, letting out a mass of flailing, razor-sharp wires, sending metal shrapnel and blades in a small radius around it. The mine itself was utterly silent but oh, the rats were _not_. Alec turned his gaze away from the carnage, glad that it was over in seconds. The sharp sounds of metal bits biting into the animal flesh and the shrieks of pain ended almost as quickly as they had started. Before he left, Alec spared one glance to see if any of the rats survived. They did not.

 

* * *

 

The building next to the Tower used to be a food storehouse, but now it stood empty. The total trade embargo of the surrounding nations had forced Idris to fend for itself, and all the rations had been used up during the plague outbreak. It was now guarded only by the skeleton crew, which Alec had no problems with avoiding.

He was pretty sure that what he was about to do was nothing short of suicidal.

Alec looked down from the edge of the roof, trying to stop the vertigo that overcame him. He had never been afraid of heights, but _this_ was something different altogether. If he miscalculated by even just an inch, the unlucky groundskeeper would be tasked with scraping his remains off of the cobblestones below. To make matters worse, the dark clouds that had been hanging in the sky for hours like an ominous promise finally broke. The rain fell down fast, between one heartbeat and the next, and the roof tiles of the Tower surely had become slippery by now.

It _was_ suicidal. There was little chance of his plan succeeding, no matter how many times he practiced on the Jade Wolf courtyard, pushing himself harder and harder still, wringing out every last bit of energy he had left to make sure he could do it. But there was no sure way to test it, not until now, not until he was finally here and about to do something extremely stupid.

But there was no other choice.

Alec walked to the opposite side of the roof, forcing himself to inhale and exhale evenly, tuning out everything but the sound of his own breathing. The rune on his lower back, the one he trained with extensively for the last couple of days now seemed to resonate with warmth. A figment of his imagination, surely, but Alec liked to pretend that out there somewhere, deep in the Void, Magnus was watching him and pushing a little bit of extra magic towards him through the rune.

He ran. As fast as he could, with long, sure strides that took him across the roof in mere seconds and then he stepped onto the ledge and jumped.

For one, terrifying moment, everything that he learned flew out of his head and there was nothing left but the horrible sense of weightlessness, of being suspended in nothingness.

He could just let it end like this. He could do nothing, plummet down to the stone below and be done with it all. Done with the responsibility and the guilt, done with the nightmares in which he saw _himself_ running his mother through with his sword. Done with the hopeful, expectant stares he could feel from the loyalists every time he turned his back. All it would take was just a second of inaction, doing nothing, and he would become nothing.

All of those dark thoughts crossed his mind in just a fraction of a second. But Alec knew, deep down, that he had too many unfinished tasks to complete. Too many people counted on him to make things right. His siblings, his friends, _his empire_. He could not leave his people to the ruthless reign of Valentine Morgenstern, not if he had a chance to fix it, to help Max build the empire back from the ruin it had fell to ever since their mother’s death.

Alec could feel the burn of the rune on his back, the one that allowed him to jump further than he could ever imagine, to move faster than ever before. He reached out with his hand, blinking towards the roof of the Tower and sent a prayer to whatever deity that listened (and certainly to the one with golden, cat-like eyes) that it would be enough.

It was. His feet hit the tiles with a loud thud and he wobbled, just for a moment, but it was enough to cause him to slip on the wet surface, falling down hard onto his knees. The pain of the fall resonated dully through his bones but there was no time to focus on the ache, not when he was tumbling down the roof like a graceless cat that had lost its balance. He reached out desperately for anything to hang on to, any kind of anchor that he could use to save himself from the fall. His fingers grasped frantically onto the tiles, but it was no use, they found only water and moss that provided nothing to slow him down. But finally, eventually, he slid to a stop on the narrow ledge that ran around the edge of the roof. Alec froze for a long moment, hesitant to move, to even _breathe_ , for fear of continuing his fall.

When he finally dared to move once more, Alec took in a shaky breath and slowly relaxed, all of his muscles letting go of the tension that gripped him hard, so hard that his entire body ached with it. He looked towards the roof of the storage house. He had actually made it. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and then a grin split his face and finally Alec laughed, a quiet, slightly-hysterical laugh. He slipped the mask off for a moment and tilted his head up, feeling the rain hit his face. It was the most amazing feeling in the world, the splash of cool water on his cheeks and lips and nose.

Still grinning like a maniac, Alec raised his left hand, took off his glove and pressed his lips over the Warlock’s mark. Like a gesture of thanks, or maybe just something for good luck. And Alec could swear that the moment his lips touched the mark, he could feel Magnus’ amusement spreading from it in a wave of warmth that chased away the ever-lingering cold from his bones.

 

* * *

 

In the early morning hours, the Tower didn’t have as many guards, since Valentine didn’t want the scientists to be disturbed, not when he was already pushing them hard towards finding the cure for the plague. It was going to work in Alec’s favor on the way out, he couldn’t leave the way he came, not with Izzy in tow. The very upper floor had only two guards milling around in the corridors and Alec took them out quickly before they made any noise, stuffing their unconscious bodies in a closet. A quick check-up with dark vision confirmed that there was only one person in Izzy’s laboratory, a bright orange beacon in the sea of grey fog. He shook his head to get his normal sight back and then made his way to the door, taking a deep breath before tentatively opening it.

Alec saw only her back at first. She was wearing a short, navy-blue dress and a white laboratory coat, stained and dirty from frequent use. Her hair was gathered on the top of her head in a messy bun, something that Alec remembered her doing every time she grumbled about her hair getting in the way of her experiments and too close to open-flame burners. She was humming one of Max’s favorite childhood songs softly underneath her breath.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe. Izzy was _right there_ , whole and unharmed, working in her lab and it was almost like nothing was wrong. Like the last six months filled with pain and despair and shame didn’t exist and his mother was still alive and everything that happened had been just a bad dream. And from afar she looked so much like Maryse that it filled his heart with a sudden, desperate longing to see his mom again. To hold her in a tight hug, so rarely given but all the more precious for it. To breathe in the floral scent of her perfume. To have her back so that she could hold his face between her hands and tell him that she was proud of him, just like the day he was named Royal Protector.

To see her just once more, so that she could forgive him for failing her.

He shook himself out of his stupor and pushed the door closed behind him with barely any noise. But the quiet click of the doorknob was enough to catch Izzy’s attention.

“I told you I don’t want to be disturbed,” she huffed in annoyance and quickly turned to face him, “this is delicate work and I don’t care—”

She froze for a moment once she saw him and Alec couldn’t blame her. But in less than a heartbeat she already had one of the scalpels clutched in her outstretched hand and she was scowling at him, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I can name at least a dozen places on your body that could kill you with one hit. If you do not want to see how good my aim is, I suggest you turn around and leave. Right now.”

Izzy sounded as spirited as ever. Half a year of Valentine breathing down her neck for a cure hadn’t managed to break her. Alec just smiled, even though she couldn’t see it with his face still obscured by the mask. All three of his siblings were amazing. Jace had escaped the castle and started plotting his escape from the dungeons. Izzy kept playing Valentine for a fool, dangling just enough of her research in front of him to prove that she was more valuable alive than dead, while _still_ not giving him the results he wanted. And Max, the youngest of them all, kept his head on his shoulders even though he had believed that his family was all either dead or had abandoned him.

“I know for a fact that your aim is shit,” he said and she startled, though he wasn’t sure if it was because she recognized his voice or because of his crude choice of words. He slipped his mask up and onto his head. “Your throwing knives never landed anywhere _near_ the target when we trained together.”

The scalpel fell from her hand and clattered loudly on the floor. She was running towards him and collided with his body so hard that he stumbled, almost losing his balance. Her hands were around his waist and her face hidden in his chest and Alec wound his arms around her shoulders, as tight as he could without hurting her.

“I knew it,” she said in a wobbly voice and Alec realized that she was crying, “I always knew you would get out. I never believed a word Valentine said to me, never believed that they killed you. And then the city announcements rang out and I knew you were alive and that you would come for me.”

Izzy was shaking in his arms and holding him close, as if she was afraid that letting him go would make him disappear. Alec clutched at her just as desperately, one of his hands gripping at the back of her neck, feeling her pulse and she was alive and healthy and unharmed.

“I could never leave you behind,” Alec said after he kissed her forehead, making her laugh through the tears.

“How?” Izzy loosened her hold to grip at his shoulders instead, studying his face intently. “How did you get out?”

“It’s a long story, one that I will tell you when we get out of here,” Alec said and used his thumbs to wipe down the tears from her cheeks. “But right now we need to go. Max is waiting for you to join us.”

“Max?” Izzy gasped, her eyes growing wide with disbelief. “You really got him back?”

“Him and Jace both. They’re safe.” Alec took his sister’s hand and pulled her gently towards the door. “Come on, we need to move, before they notice that some of the guards are missing.”

“Wait!” She yanked her hands out of his grip and ran back to one of the long tables that was filled with stacks of paper and glass jars. She hastily grabbed a couple of sloppily-bound files and shoved them inside a leather satchel slung over a nearby chair.

“Iz, leave it,” Alec hissed at her but she just shook her head.

“I’m literally a step or two from creating a permanent cure, Alec.” She gave him a scowl from over her shoulder. “I’m not leaving my research to Valentine.”

 

* * *

 

Getting out of the Tower was not easy. They had to go back up onto the roof and Alec used one of Simon’s gadgets - an arrow with a thin line attached to it, which acted as a grappling hook of sorts. They managed to get to a narrow ledge about four levels down. Alec looked down to a balcony a couple floors below and his mouth thinned to a narrow, unhappy line.

“Hang on to me really tight,” he said and made sure he had a firm grip on the belt of her dress. Her arms were still around his shoulders from where he had lowered them down from the roof just a moment ago. “And don’t make a sound.”

“Alec,” Izzy scowled at him, “why do I have a feeling I am not going to like this?”

“That’s probably because you won’t,” he grinned at her from behind his mask, hugged her waist just a little bit tighter and then stretched out his other arm towards the balcony below and _blinked_. As always, it only took a fraction of a second to shift locations, but even though they landed safely Izzy still stumbled a little, surprised by the sudden movement.

“What the hell?” she hissed as she looked up to where they had stood before. “How is this possible?”

“I’ll explain later,” Alec assured her as he cracked open the door to the balcony just a little, giving it a quick once-over with dark vision to make sure they weren’t surrounded. He could see only two guards lazily patrolling the corridor which led to the stairs below.

“That was magic,” Izzy still seemed to be stuck on that revelation. “How the hell do you have magic?”

“Iz.” Alec turned to look at her and even though she couldn’t see his face, she must have imagined his expression, since she shut up with a disappointed sigh. “ _Later_.”

She nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and then they were off again.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we made it,” Izzy said, her voice full of awe, as they dropped down from the tall walls that ran around the castle grounds. They ended up on an empty supply route that led to one of the Tower gates. It was familiar ground for Alec, since he used to make sure there were guards patrolling the area constantly, back when he was responsible for security of the castle. Things were different now, of course, but at least he knew the layout of the streets. He quickly pulled Izzy into one of the side alleys and blinked them up onto a roof. He felt safer on higher grounds these days.

Twenty minutes into their travel towards the river, Alec suddenly stopped as they were about to move from one rooftop to another. He took off his mask for a moment, squinting slightly against the water dripping into his eyes. The rain still hadn’t let up, even though the downpour had turned into more of a steady drizzle by now.

“Alec?” Izzy asked and when he didn’t move, his gaze still stuck on the street below them, she came to join him on the rooftop’s edge.

“What is this?” Alec pointed to a small part of the street, separated from the rest by iron bars and what looked to be modified walls of light. Inside the sectioned off area he saw people; some of them were pacing around, some of them talked to each other and some just sat on the ground, slumped in misery and even shaking with tears. Men, women, even _children_ , people of all ages, but all of them clearly from the poverty-stricken parts of Idris.

“Valentine’s test subjects,” Izzy replied and Alec looked at her sharply, not liking the sound of that. “He’s been trying to come up with a cure on his own.”

“And he’s using people?”

Alec wanted to say that no scientist in their right mind would that, but that would be a lie. During his captivity he became intimately familiar with Valentine’s personal brand of cruelty. He knew exactly what the man was capable of and how far he would go to get the results he wanted. And now he had people locked up in electric cages, like cattle for slaughter.

“We’re not leaving them here,” Alec looked back at the imprisoned people, his eyes already tracing the wires of the walls of light, trying to figure out where the guards installed the whale oil tanks that powered them.

“Alec,” Izzy sounded unsure and when he turned to look at her he could see that her face was filled with doubt. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Alec just stared at her for a moment. She wanted him to just abandon those people to their fate? To be experimented on and tortured and killed, as if their lives meant nothing?

Like he himself was tortured?

He understood Izzy’s hesitance, he really did. She was finally free and reunited with her family but her brother had rescued her with the help of _magic_ , something that the Clave had been teaching them to hate and fear all their lives. She was pale and shivering, the rain soaking her dress through and chilling her to the bone. They were on their way to freedom but Alec wanted to take a risk and help others, people he didn’t even know.

Izzy had always been a little disconnected from the commoners. For all her intelligence and compassion, even before their mother’s assassination Izzy had been spending her days in the Academy, buried in her books and her research. There was no malicious bone in her body, Alec knew, but she remained blissfully ignorant to the ugly sides of the world. The last couple of months must have been a harsh lesson for her.

But Alec was not abandoning his people, ever, and especially not to Valentine's mercy, for the man had none. Every scar he carried on his body was proof of that.

“We're not leaving them here,” Alec repeated, his voice firm and it was clear that his decision was final. His eyes shone with determination and Izzy lowered her gaze for a second, as if ashamed.

“You’re right,” she said. “Of course, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Izzy,” he sighed when she didn’t look up at him. He closed the distance between them and gathered her into a hug, her face pressed gently against his chest. “I just… I can’t do nothing. Valentine, he— he’s going to—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said as she finally moved back and ran a hand down her face. Alec wasn’t sure if it was the rain she was wiping off, or tears. “I understand. Now, how are we going to do this?”

“ _We_ are not going to do anything,” Alec narrowed his eyes at her. “ _You_ are going to stay here and _I_ will take care of this.” He raised a finger in warning when she opened her mouth to protest. “I’m serious, Izzy.”

“Fine, oh Lord Protector,” she rolled her eyes at him but there was a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Alec felt his own mouth twitch in response. “Go do your job.”

 

* * *

 

The freeing of Valentines test subjects actually took Alec less time than he predicted and by the time they got to the rendezvous point, they still had about an hour left before Alaric arrived with his boat to pick them up. They took shelter in a ruined building with half its walls missing. It was drafty and cold, but at least it provided some protection from the rain, which had started up again with renewed fervor. It also gave Alec a clear view of the canals below, so he would be able to spot Alaric as soon as he made it around the bend of the river.

Alec was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and Izzy was curled up between his legs, her back to his chest. He had covered her with his coat, hoping to stave off the shivers and share their body heat.

“So he’s been helping you all this time? _The_ High Warlock?” Izzy asked as she stroked her thumb over the black mark on the back of Alec’s left hand. She had been rubbing his hands between hers for awhile now, trying to warm them up, as Alec retold his story.

“It was the loyalists that helped me escape the prison, but Magnus gave me his mark the same night.” Alec looked at the dark brand and sighed. Had it really been only a couple of weeks since he’d received it? “Finding out where Max was and rescuing him, getting you back… none of that would have been possible without him.”

“And he hasn’t asked for anything in return?”

“Well…” Alec hesitated. “A price was mentioned. But he has not collected it yet.”

“What kind of price?”

Alec could hear the suspicion lacing her voice and he knew she wasn’t going to like his answer. He was suddenly glad that he couldn’t see her face; It was easier to say all of these things when he didn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“I don’t know.”

She stiffened against him.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alec finally said. “I needed his help. All I cared about was keeping you, Max and Jace safe. As long as his price doesn’t end up hurting you guys, it doesn’t matter what he wants. He can have it.”

“What if he asks for something terrible? What if he asks for _your life_?”

His silence was enough of an answer.

“Oh, Alec...” she whispered, aghast.

“He’s been very… generous, so far. For what it’s worth, I honestly don’t think he’s going to demand anything that I can’t give him.”

Izzy twisted her neck as far as she could to look at him, but he stubbornly kept his gaze on the river. In the corner of his eye he could see her face splitting into a huge grin, the previous somber mood quickly forgotten.

“He’s pretty, isn’t he?”

The corner of Alec’s mouth twitched a little.

“He _is_!” she squealed. “You finally show interest in someone and he ends up being a forbidden god. Only you, big brother, I swear.”

Alec could feel the tips of his ears reddening, and it had nothing to do with the body heat they were sharing right then.

“Can we not talk about it right now?”

“Why, you have something better to do?” She turned her head back around and raised his hand up once more, to peer closely at the brand. “You realize that if the Clave and the Overseers ever see this, you will be branded a heretic and killed, right? Ties to the royal family or not.”

“Yes,” Alec sighed, “and that’s something that we have to take care of, after all this is over. When Max sits back on the throne, we need to force the Clave to stop prosecuting the Downworlders. Lydia is already on the fast track to becoming next Inquisitor, so that’s at least one person on our side.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked. “I mean, you know I never fully agreed to what the Clave has been teaching us but openly rebelling against them?”

“The only ones who have helped Max right now are the loyalists and almost all of them are Downworlders. They want nothing but to see him restored to power. Max is young but he sees them and we need to make sure he never loses sight of what they really are - his people,” Alec said. “Most of them didn’t choose to be like this and it’s not right to make them suffer for it. They are our subjects and they ended up attacked by those who prey on them and turn them against their will. That’s on us. We failed to protect them and then we punish them for our own shortcomings. How is that fair?”

“I guess I never saw it like that before.”

“I know. It’s what they’ve been teaching us since we were kids. Hell, it’s what _mom_ taught us our entire lives. But the Clave has lied to us all,” Alec scoffed. In the far distance he saw Alaric’s boat finally appearing on the river. It wouldn’t be long before they could finally reunite what was left of their family. “And I will not stand idle any longer while they terrorize and kill our people.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting this on my birthday. So I guess here’s my gift to you guys :P
> 
> This was supposed to be a chapter that would bump up the rating from ‘Teen’ to ‘Explicit’. BUT as I got to 10k words and STILL have not reached the naughty part, I decided to split it into two separate chapters (this is also why it took me so long to post this update).
> 
> I know, I know. I’ve been teasing about the whole void sex scene for a while now but I give you guys a 100% guarantee it’s going to happen in the next part.

Alec took a long look at the drink sloshing gently in his glass. He had raised it to his eye level some time ago and was now tilting it this way and that, watching the light play in the cut crystal of the tumbler, reflecting off the faceted surface and the pale golden liquid inside. He let the quiet conversations of the people in the room wash over him as they waited for everyone to settle in the loyalists’ meeting room. His body resonated with a deep-bone ache, the one he came to associate with overusing of the runes and the magical gifts that Magnus bestowed upon him. He had used up a lot of energy while getting Izzy out of the Tower and it showed in his tired expression and the shaking of his hands. Hence the alcohol, just a couple of mouthfuls to warm him up and help him relax. The time to truly rest would come later. Luke had actually planned on giving him a break, but Alec wanted to get the post-mission debrief over with, so that he could get a good meal, at least eight hours of sleep and then some quality time with his family.  

For over half a year he thought that he had lost everything he held dear in his life. Valentine had not managed to break him, no, but he came dangerously close to it, even if Alec didn’t want to admit it to himself. It wasn’t the pain or the torture that nearly killed his spirit, but the knowledge that he had failed to protect his loved ones. The visions that Valentine had put into his head… that Max was gone, that Jace was killed while trying to break him out of the prison, that Izzy had been used and abused while she worked on the cure for the plague. Alec held on and stubbornly refused to confess to killing his mother, but there were days where he _wanted_ to give in. Wanted to accept death and make the relentless voices in his head finally stop.

But now they were back together and Alec would never forget the way Max called out for Izzy as he ran down the courtyard of the Jade Wolf as soon as Alaric’s boat hit the pier. The way that Alec had to catch Izzy as she all but stumbled out of the boat in her haste to get to Max. Or the way she fell to her knees as she held her little brother, crying and laughing at the same time. And the sight of Jace, finally back on his feet, shuffling to them carefully to avoid aggravating his injuries any further, only to be pulled into the shared embrace.

Alec had looked at them then and smiled tiredly. His family was finally together, three royals piled up in an ungraceful heap in the dirty yard of a ruined restaurant, all laughing like loons while wiping tears away. Alec had felt the steel bands that had been squeezing his heart ease a little. If nothing else, he had managed to do this much, to get his family back together. It wasn’t enough to make up for his failures, not _nearly_ enough... but it was a start.

Alec tore his eyes away from the glass and looked at the other side of the table where Izzy now sat, with an overjoyed Max in her lap. Their little brother had been talking her ear off, ecstatic to have her back. Jace was sitting next to them, providing additional commentary whenever Max missed some crucial part of their story so far. While Jace was still not fully recovered, it seemed that Catarina’s spells had finally started to work on him. He was doing much better and hopefully he would be back to his old form with a couple days worth of rest.

“I think that’s everyone.” Luke’s voice tore Alec away from his musings. “Hodge, please take Lord Maxwell to his next lesson.”

“I want to stay with Izzy.” Max gripped harder onto Izzy’s dress and gave Luke a stubborn, defiant look.

“Max,” Isabelle rubbed a hand gently over Max’s tense back, “I’ve missed you too, baby brother. I’ll be right with you as soon as we’re done with the meeting. It won’t take long.”

“No.” Max shook his head and then turned quickly to glare at Hodge who rested his hand on Max’s shoulder in an attempt to coax him into cooperating. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Max.” Alec didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard, which was one of the first lessons that Maryse drilled into him, before he voluntarily removed himself from the line of succession. In an instant he held the attention of all of the room’s occupants, his voice quiet but firm and unyielding. “That’s enough.”

“But—”

“No.” Alec’s tone made it perfectly clear that his request wasn’t really a request at all and that he expected to be obeyed. “Go with your tutor. You will have plenty of time to catch up with Izzy after we’re done with our business here. Go on.”

Max looked like he wanted to argue but one glance at Alec’s stony expression seemed to convince him to let it go. Pouting all the way, he allowed himself to be led out of the room by Hodge, who closed the door of the briefing room behind them.

“Oh wow.” Simon whistled, breaking the sudden tension, “sometimes you make me think that you would be one scary emperor.” He wilted a little under Alec’s unimpressed stare. “Okay, not just sometimes, _all the time_.”

“Alec would be a great emperor,” Izzy said quickly before Simon could dig himself in even deeper. “But now we need to focus on Max and making sure he’s ready for the throne.”

“You know that he’s just going to be a little brat about this for the next two days, right?” Jace groaned as he leaned back in his chair, trying to ease some of the pressure on his still healing wounds.

“He’ll get over it.” Alec shrugged, “I know we all want him to be a kid for as long as it’s possible, but we shouldn’t tolerate behavior like this. He needs to learn that his new position of power doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have to listen to people who are older and smarter than him.” Alec sighed. “And since mom is gone, that responsibility falls to us now.”

“And we all are going to do our best to make sure he grows up to be a great leader,” Luke said, alleviating the tension and bringing the meeting back on track. “And thanks to Alec and Jace’s efforts, we’re close to winning the throne back, closer than ever before. And I think I speak for everyone when I say that it’s great for you to finally join us, Lady Isabelle.”

“Please, just call me Izzy. Let’s leave the official titles for court.”

“As you wish.” Luke drummed his fingers on the table’s surface for a moment. “The last couple of weeks were very fruitful when it came to taking out Valentine’s supporters. We eliminated the Clave’s Inquisitor and if all goes well, Lydia Branwell will be nominated as his replacement. By breaking out Isabelle from her prison in the Tower, we removed a way to distribute her elixir, which should soon escalate the tension among the nobles. We got Lord Max back and managed to get Sebastian Morgenstern out of the picture. Valentine had to resign as head of his House when he became Lord Regent, and now with Sebastian gone, the power of House Morgenstern falls to Clary.” Luke waved a hand in Clary’s direction. “She should be able to sway the Council of Lords in favor of any changes to the law we wish to make. Even with her relative inexperience with politics, House Morgenstern holds too much power for her to be ignored.”

“That will be useful if we want to put a stop to the persecution of Downworlders,” Izzy said and glanced at Alec, who gave her a small, tired smile.

“Exactly,” Luke agreed. “All of those steps ensured that once we take the throne back, the transition will be as smooth as possible. We have taken out the religious, political and scientific cornerstones of Valentine’s reign, but we are left with one more, perhaps the most important one. The financial support that funds the city guards who are loyal to him.”

“The royal treasury was close to being depleted six months ago, when the plague was just starting to spread through the city.” Jace frowned. “With the blockade of borders and the sickness in Idris, I don’t think there’s any gold left in the reserves. Do we know how Valentine keeps finding money to pay them off?”

“Private funding. Our network of spies managed to learn that there is a noblewoman who invests large sums of money in Valentine and it’s more than possible that she helped to pay off the assassins who murdered the Empress.” Luke grimaced. “Unfortunately, we had no luck with finding out the identity of the woman.”

“Oh,” Izzy let out a small, almost breathless sound. “Actually, I think I know who she is.”

All of the people gathered in the room looked at her but Izzy never faltered while being in the center of attention.

“I’ve had to spend a lot of time close to Valentine the last couple of months.” Izzy wrinkled her nose in disgust. “He was trying to figure out my formula for the elixir. But being in his company, as displeasing as it was, allowed me to hear things when he thought I was out of earshot. Some time ago I heard him talking to some of his advisors about a large sum of money that should appear in his accounts, courtesy of Lady Belcourt.”

A sudden cracking sound caught their attention and they turned towards the source, which turned out to be Simon, who was staring at the pieces of broken glass embedded in his hand. Alec had watched him playing around with an empty tumbler just moments ago and dismissed it as one of vampire’s quirks; Simon seemed unable to sit still and his hands were always fiddling with something. But now the vamp must have squeezed the glass so hard it broke and the jagged pieces cut his hand, making the blood drip on the polished surface of the table.

“Simon?” Clary asked gently as she stood up, trying to bring Simon out of his reverie. It worked, because Simon suddenly shook it off with a full-body shiver, as if someone had doused him with cold water.

“Shit! Sorry, I’m sorry!” Simon startled when Clary reached for his wrist to keep it still and then carefully started taking the larger glass pieces of glass out of his hand. The cleaned wounds stitched themselves together before their eyes. Alec could hear Izzy’s quiet intake of breath. She had not seen this kind of healing ability before.

“It’s okay, Si.” Clary smiled at her friend.

“No, it’s not.” Simon gulped, taking a quick look at his hand and then at the rest of the loyalists, who were still staring at him, waiting for some kind of explanation. “It’s really not. Because Camille Belcourt is a vampire. A very old and very powerful vampire.”

“She’s a _what?_ ”

“What the—”

“Why the hell is a vamp funding a fanatic like Valentine?”

“Quiet!” Luke raised his voice to calm everybody down. Then he looked back at their resident inventor. “Simon, are you sure? I haven’t seen any reports about her. Not even a hint of her not being human and I know most of the Downworlders in this city.”

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Simon whispered and stared at the drops of blood on the table before raising his eyes back up again. “She was the one who killed me.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t like this, Alec.”

Alec could have rolled his eyes, but the gesture would go unnoticed anyways. He was currently standing with his back to Jace, who was pacing around in Alec’s tiny room in the attic. Izzy was standing next to the single window, looking through it at the wooden walkway leading to Max’s room in the watchtower.

“I’m not happy about it either,” Alec said as he tossed his leather coat on the armchair next to his bed. “But it’s not like we have any other choice.”

After Simon had dropped his revelation on them, Luke had informed those gathered in the meeting room that their plans had to be altered once more. As fate would have it, Lady Belcourt was hosting a large party in the evening and that would undoubtedly be the best chance they would have to reach her. But that meant going on two missions in the same day and Alec wouldn’t have enough time to rest in between.

“I should go with you,” Jace muttered angrily, still doing his best to wear a hole in Alec’s floors with the way he was pacing.

“You’re not fully recovered yet.”

“Alec, I’m fine. I’m good to go.”

“Sure,” Alec sighed and reached towards the small bowl of fresh fruit someone had placed on his table. He grabbed an apple and tossed it at Jace. “Here, catch.”

Jace always had quick reflexes, his body often reacting without his conscious thought. It’s what made him nearly unbeatable in combat. It was a point of pride for him, this honed skill that had him on the fast track to becoming the leader of Idris’ military forces in a couple of years. So when Alec tossed the fruit at him he caught it, raising his arm quickly to avoid being hit in the face.

With a quiet curse Jace dropped the apple and it bounced a couple of times as it rolled away on the floor. Jace hunched over, an arm around his middle as he waited for the wave of pain to recede.

“You’re not fine,” Alec said and the glare that Jace sent him held the promise of retribution of some kind in the near future. “Catarina said you needed a couple more days of healing spells before you can move without risking a setback. She also said, and I quote, that she’s going to make you pay if you undo all her hard work.”

“I just…” Jace sighed and pursed his lips, clearly unhappy. “You’re taking a risk, going out again so soon. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Yeah, well, this cannot be helped.” Alec shrugged off his shirt, getting ready for bed. “We might not get another chance at getting to Belcourt in a long time. We have to take it.” He turned to lift the blankets off his bed... and then heard a startled gasp behind him.

His sister was looking at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression on her face and for a moment Alec didn’t understand what had caused that reaction. Until he realized she was looking at him. At first he thought that it was because of the runes, but he knew her better than that.

“Iz…”

She crossed the room to get to him and reached out to grasp his shoulder and make him turn around again. Alec gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he felt her touch on his naked back, her hand trembling as she traced the scars.

Alec had always known, of course, that there were a lot of them. While he was in prison there was no way for him to see them, but he knew they were there. They had ached as they healed and they pulled at his skin when he moved. But he only saw them for the first time here, in Jade Wolf, after he escaped. He had stood in his small bathroom and twisted and turned until he could see them in the mirror and the sight of them shocked him. They criss-crossed his back, a mixture of red and white lines. The whip marks, the cuts and burns… they turned his back into a mess of ruined skin; raised and bumpy in some places, dented and hollow in others. Valentine did his best to extract a confession from him and when he got bored, he passed Alec off to the newly appointed royal interrogator - a cruel and simple-minded brute who took great pleasure in finding new ways to make him bleed.

There were spots on his back where the scars clustered on top of one another so much that he barely felt Izzy’s touch. Alec supposed that he should be glad that nerve damage was the worst that happened. He didn’t think he would have survived if any of the wounds had gotten infected.

“Oh, _Alec_ …”

Alec had never felt self-conscious about his scars; not before Jace, who treated them like battle wounds, nor before the loyalists, who had seen them train shirtless in the courtyard. He certainly didn’t feel that way in front of Magnus, who had gazed upon his back without batting an eyelash. Who had touched his skin with careful touches... and yet that caution wasn’t dictated by revulsion but by Alec’s own attention-starved body, shivering and trembling upon the slightest caress.

But his sister’s soft whisper, filled with dread and compassion both, was enough to make him stop and think. To question if he was now repulsive to look at. Pitiful and pathetic, as if every mark was a proof of his failures. Suddenly he wasn’t okay with anyone looking at those scars, not even his siblings, whom he loved more than life.

Alec quickly sat down on the edge of his narrow bed, turning his back to the wall and bent down to untie his boots.

“Listen, guys, I only have two, maybe three hours left to sleep before I have to head out again, so if you don’t mind?”

It wasn’t a particularly subtle dismissal and Izzy looked like she wanted to say something else, but Jace ushered her out of the room nevertheless, after making Alec promise one last time that he would be careful. The room was plunged into semi-darkness once they closed the door behind them and Alec flopped back onto the bed with a deep sigh. The last rays of setting sun shone faintly through the closed blinds, painting the room with thin stripes of light.

Alec raised one hand to his face, peering closely at it.

“No dreams tonight,” he whispered and brushed his lips lightly over the mark, as if in apology. He needed uninterrupted sleep if he was going to last through one more mission.

By the way the mark responded with pulsating warmth resonating from within, he figured Magnus wasn’t angry about his request.

 

* * *

 

Alec entered Simon’s workshop on his way to the docks, remembering at the last moment that their resident inventor had asked to see him before he went on the mission. The workshop was in a mild state of disarray, like always, though two of the large desks were cleared out. Alec guessed that Simon was making space for Isabelle and her equipment, since his sister had to continue working on the cure.

“You wanted to see me?” Alec asked as he finally found Simon on the second floor of the building, hunched over some mechanical contraption Alec couldn’t begin to understand.

“Ah, yes. I have something for you. Give me a minute, I need to finish soldering this on otherwise it’s just going to fall apart when I let go.”

He could spare a minute. Alec wandered around the workshop, even though he knew it well enough by now. Every available space was filled with experiments, metal parts or chemicals of unknown origin, mixed in with plans and drafts of more gadgets for the loyalists to use. His gaze fell to one of the desks and an empty cup standing on it, with remains of a red liquid inside. Alec was pretty much sure it was not wine.

“It’s from willing donors,” Simon said without looking at him as he set the soldering iron down. He sounded a little defensive, as if he was expecting Alec to judge him. “Cat draws some blood every other day from one of our guys. They all know what it is used for.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

“But you were wondering.” Simon shrugged, doing a pretty good job of pretending not to care. It made Alec recall one of his conversations with Luke, the one where he said that Simon hadn’t been turned very long ago and was still adjusting to his new life. “It’s cool. Not like I can pretend to be on a normal diet anymore.”

Alec said nothing as Simon stood up and went to one of the cabinets and rummaged through it briefly, before finally finding what he was looking for. It turned out to be a box; it was narrow and somewhat flat, made from dark wood.

“So, listen. I don’t really have any love for Camille. She can rot in hell for what she did to me.”

“I thought…” Alec hesitated for a moment, “I thought I’ve heard someone say that vampires stay loyal to the ones who turned them?”

“We do.” Simon looked somewhat uncomfortable with that admission. “But Camille is the one who killed me. Not the one who actually turned me.”

“Oh.”

“So like I said, I would love to see Camille’s head on a spike. But I know that so far you haven’t killed anyone in your quest for the throne. So if you want to keep doing that, I actually might have a solution for you?”

“Is that a statement or a question?” Alec raised an eyebrow at him.

“The first one?”

“Just get on with it, please. Alaric is waiting for me.”

“If you want, I can go with you to the city and then contact a leader of a local vampire clan, Lily Chen,” Simon said. “I’m pretty sure she would love to get Camille under her control and she would find a way to keep her contained if you could deliver her to them.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for her to kill Camille, if she wants to take over the territory?”

“Yes and no. Camille turned a large number of vampires in the city but most of them are new, without real restraint. It will be easier to control them if they don’t feel their sire die.” Simon gave Alec the box. “And this is going to help you take her down.”

“Is that blood?” Alec asked as he opened the box and revealed a glass syringe with a metal plunger inside. He raised it to the light, which shone through the glass, but just barely. The liquid inside was thick and so dark it almost seemed black.

“Dead man’s blood,” Simon confirmed. “Completely harmless to humans but it’s like poison to vampires. If you manage to inject her with it, it should paralyze her for a couple of hours. Long enough for us to take care of her.”

“Thanks,” Alec said, tucking the box away in one of the pouches by his belt. “Are you ready to go?”

“Just about.” Simon nodded and then his eyes widened a little. “Oh, I almost forgot. Catarina had a request for you. Camille has a book that Cat’s friend was looking for. Alaric said you know him already, a guy named Ragnor?”

“We’ve met.” Alec nodded. “I honestly don’t think I will have time to go through Camille’s library, Simon.”

“I know, I know, man. Cat only asked that you keep an eye out and if you happen to see it, grab it for her. For him. Whatever. The book is bound in white leather and has some runes painted on the cover.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Alec sighed. “But taking Camille out is my priority.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

 

* * *

 

Alec breathed in deeply, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The chilly night air was refreshing and it helped to chase away the fatigue he could feel lingering in his bones. The two hours of sleep he had managed to catch weren’t nearly enough to restore his energy, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He could hear the party even a couple of streets away from the Belcourt mansion. It was easy to spot the right place from his vantage point on the rooftops. The bright shine of whale-oil lights and the fireworks exploding high in the sky every couple of minutes washed away the shadows with a momentary bursts of color.

He and Simon had separated a while ago. Before he went off to find Lily, Simon told him about the entrance to the cellar where they could meet again. It was obscured in the shadows on the far side of the mansion, away from the prying eyes of the guests.

“She takes humans in there and drains them. Guards take the bodies out through that side door when she’s done...” Simon trailed off. “I was nearly dead when they took me and dumped me into the river. I was lucky, I guess, that some other vampires found me.”

‘ _Lucky_ ’ wasn’t the word that Alec would have used to describe Simon’s situation.

The streets were alive with activity, despite the late hour. Estate District, where nobles and wealthy citizens lived, was pretty much isolated from the other plague-ridden parts of the city and it showed. People milling about in the streets seemed happy and carefree. Those who could afford _Isabelle’s elixir_ , even in its imperfect state, did not care about the rest of Idris slowly dying out.

Alec jumped from one roof to the other and then his gaze fell to an open attic balcony on the other side of the street. The room it led to was dark, the lights turned off, but the balcony door had the symbol of the crown the loyalists used painted on it. Alec had encountered them before and the buildings marked with them usually held caches of supplies that Luke’s people had hidden all over the city.

Alec blinked onto the balcony and used dark vision to see inside. And then his breath caught because someone was already there.

The girl was sitting with her back against the wall on the far side of the room. Even in the deep shadows Alec could see the unmistakable shine of her white hair and he instantly knew who it was.

“Gretel?” Alec took off his mask as he crouched next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. The floor underneath his boots was slippery and Alec realized it was blood. Gretel was awake, but her breathing was ragged and wet, as if every inhale required an immense effort.

“Took you long enough to get here,” she rasped, trying to sit up a little and wincing when pain shot through her. She gave up and remained slumped against the wall. “You stop for a little sightseeing on your way over?”

“Gretel, what happened?” Alec refused to take the bait. It didn’t seem like they had time for bickering.

“A tallboy got me,” she said and shifted her jacket a little, revealing a deep wound in her side. It was large and bleeding sluggishly but not healing over, which meant she got hit with one of the new, special arrows that Valentine equipped his brainwashed pets with, after he took over the throne. The arrowtips were coated with some kind of acid that prevented wolves from healing. “I thought I would be faster than him, but I guess I was wrong.”

“What were you even doing here? Luke didn’t tell me he had anyone out here on back-up.”

“That’s because he didn’t know.” She looked at him and scoffed at his surprised expression. “I managed to steal an invitation from one of the guests, before I was spotted. This party, it’s a masquerade.” Gretel tapped Alec’s mask lightly, leaving a red smudge behind. “With this you will be able to blend right in. Just walk in like you belong there. Should make things easier if you don’t have to sneak around all the time.”

“That… that is actually a good idea,” Alec admitted. Luke’s intel didn’t manage to get a lot of details about the party, but now it seemed like simply going through the main entrance wasn’t going to be a problem. No one knew who he was behind the mask; He could pretend to be just another stuck-up noble and no one would be the wiser.

“I left the invitation over there,” she tilted her head to the side, where an old, dust-covered desk stood, “didn’t want to bleed all over the fancy paper.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Alec said. “What were you doing here alone?”

She didn’t reply for a long while, long enough for Alec to wonder if she was still conscious. But eventually she turned her head to look at him again, her dark eyes clear despite the pain she was obviously in. Her gaze seemed to pierce him right through.

“I used to hate you Lightwoods. Your parents made it really difficult for Downworlders to live in peace in this city,” she started and Alec suppressed a wince, remembering all too clearly the hatred that they had allowed to bloom in their empire. “I didn’t even feel sad when your mother died, she never did anything to stop the Clave from hunting us down. When your brother disappeared and Luke took in Jace, I thought he was crazy. I thought that starting the whole resistance movement was a joke - why would we try to protect those who thought we were nothing but animals?”

“Gretel…”

“But then you showed up with the High Warlock’s mark on your hand and using magic like it was natural for you. And you treated us like normal people.” Gretel coughed and then gasped as fresh wave of pain hit her. “You and your siblings, you are not like your parents. You will make things different for Downworlders, won’t you?”

“We will,” Alec said without hesitation. “You have my word.”

“And _that_ is the reason why I’m here. I wanted… I wanted to be a part of that change. To do something, something more than just spy on patrols and give useless reports. I wanted—”

She coughed again and Alec took her hand in a silent show of support. She didn’t recoil from him and instead her hand squeezed his, tightly, almost to the point of pain. She didn’t say anything else and Alec didn’t push her to finish her thought. There was nothing more to be said, nothing that would matter. All that Alec could do now was to stay with her, hold onto her hand and keep watch until she slipped away.

No one deserved to die alone.

Her breath stilled a couple minutes later, and her hand grew slack in his. Alec folded her arms over her stomach.

“Ave atque vale,” he whispered as he closed her unseeing eyes. The traditional words were the ones that Idris’ military used, but Alec couldn’t think of anything else to say. She had given her life for the cause, for making things better for the citizens of the empire. And that, if nothing else, earned her the same respect he would give any fallen soldier. “Hail and farewell.”

**Author's Note:**

> Every fic in this series is first posted to my tumblr and I upload it to AO3 with a delay. If you want to read my stories as soon as I finish them, follow me there: theonetruenorth.tumblr.com
> 
> Beta-read by [brizzbee](http://brizzbee.tumblr.com/)


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